Four Horsemen: Brave New World
by penguinfighter-d-chan
Summary: Continuing from the first instance, the Survivors try to reconstruct their lives in City 17, formerly Austin. But as others flow into the city, there are other forces that interfere and some are worse than the Infected.
1. Camera Diary Entry 008

A/N: And the second part of this trilogy opens up with a recap of what's happened in the last 3 months. Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (C) VALVe

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**Chapter 1: Camera Diary Entry 008**

_[The camera comes to life in an environment quite different from the military base it had first made its first recording or the stale room it started its duty as a journal. The room itself is a homely looking place, a whole apartment made up of half an abandoned office building in Austin, with a view of the city unmatched. Ellis comes into frame wearing an oiled up wife-beater shirt, exposing both his tattoos and his physique. The bed shown is bigger and possibly salvaged, like the rest of the apartment.]_

Been a while since I did this...but I'd best start updatin' on wha's been goin' on since my last entry!

Things have been good lately; no signs of CEDA or military from Meridian. No one's been chasin' us or ev'n askin' questions 'bout how we survived. Keith gav me a job ov'r at his shop he built after he an' Ma moved in. Ro's been helpin' out makin' deliveries o'er at St. John's Package Delivery Service. She tol' me she was practically doin' what she did befo' though I dunno how producin' TV prepares yew t' ride bikes an' carry package. Coach's stayin' around, helpin' at th' school Miss Flo worked in while she got settled in. Turns out she's th' reason Coach became a...well y'know! An' he's real good at it too! Nick an' I went t' a game an' he was actin' like a boss an' shit!

[_The hick smiles and he looks at the camera with a bit of joy,_] Momma's been holdin' down th' fort since she got flown in with Keith into a relocation camp an' she told me she prayed ev'ry night for two weeks straight fer someone t' find me. Turns out she's th' immune one in th' family an' she's been welcomin' Survivors like a regular Nightingale.

[_His expressions then saddens considerably_] By wha' she told me, Dave had been killed by friendly fire and Earl got sick while helpin' his dad outta Geogia. He asked fer his dad t' shoot 'im while he was still his son. Mr. Peterson didn't last long after tha', accordin' t' Keith. Makes one think how lucky som' people are...an' it jus' means tha' life's a joy t' be cherished. I jus' wish there was som'way fo' me t' thank 'im fer takin' such good care of my ma.

[_Ellis sighs out and scratches behind the hat, trying to make sense and order of his thoughts..._] Ma wasn't too happy of me bein' with Nick an' I coul' tell when I told her but, [_smirks at his memory_] she said th' wisest words I've heard sinc Coach retired: "Yer my son an' I'm jus' glad yew didn't get infected or killed." She insists on Nick callin' her Miss Cordy an' he has no choice unless he wants an asswhoopin'. [_"I heard that, Fireball!" Nick's voice is heard in the background_] Good, 'cause yew need t' learn it, yew dumbfuck! [_"Your mother's insane, end of conversation!" And that's the last thing heard from the conman as the door outside slams closed. Ellis just laughs at the whole thing, cheering him up for the moment._]

He's jus' cranky 'cause it's been 2 weeks since we had sex but tha's how I know he ain' strayin'. He an' Mama don' always agree on stuff like wha' he did befo' th' Green Flu-she can tell he ain' no doctor, "No grown-ass doctor wears a white suit unless it's t' work!" she tol' him once- and th' South...yeah, ev'n after I told him not to. Still, I've seen 'em make th' effort t' git along. Nick's not used t' havin' som'one one like her 'round an' th' last Yankee Momma ev'r met went home with a broken leg back when I was a babe. At least, he put his smarts t' use an' set up a bar downstairs but I've caught 'im sneakin' around, on th' prowl fer som' unlucky moron or a target t' steal or con outta their hard-earned money. I know it's wrong but it don't really matter; I like 'im like tha'.

[_The young man sobers up and looks over, above the camera, to the city view outside._] None of us haven't told anyone 'bout wha' happened three months back...I don't have th' heart t' tell my mom or my best friend I ain't ev'n normal anymo'. I know Coach hasn't tol' Ma'am Florence about it 'cause, well it jus' shows. It's like there's this Witch in th' room an' no one wants t' shoot it or walk away...Nick an' I are real careful not t' get hurt or git too emotional or th' experiment starts t' make itself know. Maybe tha's why we try t' not make so many friends here an' stick t' th' people we know.

I hate t' admit it but Nick's righ': iss not a matter of if CEDA's gonna try t' track us down, it's a matter of _when. _We're their ticket outta their shit hole an' unless they can find people like us t' repeat th' experiment, they need us. Ro sent McKinley Coach's tags in an unmarked envelope, covered in some of his blood fer added flair and, wouldn't yew know it? They believed it! At least th' big guy's catchin' a break an' won't be hunted down like th' rest of us...he deserves his time with Ma'am Florence.

[_There's a stubborn look on his face..._] Fuck it, I'm enjoyin' my time here an' I'm willin' t' fight fer my freedom. Gotta go, next shift's startin' an' I ain't missin' this beautiful Corvette tha's comin' in! [_The hick's back on his usual joie-di-vivre and he switches off the camera. His dog tags flash for a moment before the screen goes black._]


	2. Life After God's Disappearance

A/N: Even the eternally optimistic have their doubts in a life after so much pain. More glimpses in how the Survivors adapted into Austin's ways with just a hint of foreboding~Thanks for the reads!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (c) VALVe

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**Chapter 2: Life After God's Disappearance**

_Ten people lined the walls, backs turned but they all knew their fate. Guns aimed reluctantly at them, a strong male voice yelling out the single command "FIRE". He could hear one of them, a young woman closer to his age than the rest of them, cry and plead with God to make it fast. These were the rejects, the unfit for further experimentation, and like any human test subjects in such projects, had to be eliminated no matter what. The Horseman, practically on the verge of those telltale red tears, took one shaky breath and pulled the-_

"NO!" Ellis jump-started awake, sweating bullets and gasping for air he had plenty of. He knew that he did yell as Nick was staring at him, waiting for a response. "Ellis, it's 5 fucking am on a Friday; you better have dreamed of a Jockey _finally_ raping you or I'm-" "Y'know _exactly_ what I was dreamin' of," the mechanic cut the tirade short; Nick had a funny way of showing concern but not now. The conman's eyes wandered to the pair of dogtags on their bed stand; Ellis was right. "El, you've been having that nightmare for a while now..." Two weeks to be exact, "what happened _happened_; we were forced to do it."

"I know but I think my brain's punishin' me fo' bein' alive instead of 'em. They weren't sick; they jus-" ever the altruist, Ellis gave his lover a sad look, "Y'ever think tha' maybe..." "Don't finish that sentence. It was either us or them and we both know that we can't take a bullet to the head," Nick interrupted with a forlorn expression on his face as well; his team was the _lucky_ one, in a sense. But that was bullshit; they traded death for a power they themselves didn't understand and, in Coach's case, _want_. Three months after their daring escape and the Survivors had noticed no change in their bodies and that was the problem. They hadn't _aged _and they didn't know when they would. Most would see this as a miracle of science but Nick and Ellis would do anything to be fully human again.

"C'mon, go to sleep; you and Keith tend to do your little stunts at the beginning of the day so, for once in your life, _sleep in,_" the gambler reasoned and pulled the hick down with him, making El's head land on top of his beating heart. A quirk of the young man he developed was that he used that subtle sound, constant and perpetual, to lull him back to sleep. It was better than any sleeping aid, rendered useless , and booze.

Three hours and half later, the mechanic woke up, optimism back on track, just the way Nick liked it. "Yew comin' t' the train station with Coach an' Ro?" he asked while changing into his weathered overalls and a fresh new shirt, a Metallica concert souvenir from two years back. "Like I have a choice, Fireball," the older of the two remarked, grabbing whatever was left on the fridge that was readily edible. It had become somewhat of a tradition for the group to meet up at least once a month at the train station, to eat and catch up during their lunch break. The last time, Ellis had to drag Nick out of a drunken stupor after he had his own nightmares downed five vodka and wine bottles in less than 3 hours. Turns out that everyone was still struggling with Survival. "C'mon, Nick! Yer more borin' than watchin' paint dry when yew git all bitchy!" he exclaimed with snark dripping in his voice before leaving for the day.

Ellis had no trouble driving through town in the salvaged truck he managed to fix; those fifteen minutes always seemed like a breeze . Keith never did figure out how the younger mechanic got the damn thing running, especially when two of the treated steel suspensions had been bent beyond repair; he knew better than to ask though. El also made time to drop off some flowers he bought for his mother the other day. It was a joke between Nick and him that Miss Cordy would end up with a severe allergy to roses and orchids by the time they got to the first year with the copious amounts she received. But the older woman didn't mind in the least bit; she never got sick of seeing her baby boy.

"El, Corvette's all yers! I got me a customer tha's in a jam out back!" Keith called out as he greeted his (only surviving) friend from Savannah. "Yeah sure, Keith!" Ellis zipped up the top part of his uniform over his shirt and started working but not before dropping off his gun and trusty katana sword on the side of the garage. As protected as Austin was from the Infected, the weapons had become an extension to his sense of self and would rather be a prepared fool lugging the sheathed blade than be an unprotected moron and get caught in a corner. It was a sad state of affairs when not all of the dangers were related to the Green Flu itself.

Once the younger hick made sure _no one_ was looking however, he lifted the classic car with one hand just slightly to check for any leaking on his own. Just because he wanted to be human again doesn't mean he wouldn't sneak a use or two of his enhancements. El's blue eyes then zeroed into the problem and smirked; the power steering line was leaking. "Aw man, I thought yew needed a full tune-up baby," he whined and slowly set the half-ton vehicle onto the ground _quietly_. "Whatchu say El?" Keith inquired while he walked in just as Ellis wiped his hands. "Jus' a power steerin' problem, yew bullshitter," he argued and punched his best friend's arm with mock intent. "Really? Aw, I want t' admire it som' more...well, let's jus' fix it befo' we git nostalgia."

Rochelle, on the other hand, only needed any excuse she could to make a pit stop over at the auto-repair during her deliveries...even if she used a bicycle to do them. "Hey El! Hey Keith! How y'all doin'?" she greeted while she dropped off a large box at the front desk. "Coul' be better, Miss Ro, but yer lookin' like a regular belle righ' here," Keith quipped, blatantly flirting with the reporter-turned-delivery girl. El simply tipped his hat and embraced her tightly. "Don' mind 'im, he's bein' an idiot." Before Ro could say anything, the radio tuned interrupted her line of thought with a commercial from the People for a New Christian America.

_~Welcome all refugees into the hearth of your home, share your food with those whose families have joined the Lord, for God sees this and rewards your generosity...remember, it was by His Grace that you've made it this far._

Both Horseman and Horsewoman shuddered at the soothing woman's voice; something about that just rubbed them the wrong way. "Ma an' I hate tha' shit; people can't go 'round blamin' God for this," Ellis remarked darkly, Keith agreeing for far different reasons, "They're jus' takin' credit of His work."

"Anyways. Coach says it's Nick's turn to pay lunch and we both know he has the cash," Rochelle concluded while snatching a beer from the cooler nearby. The older mechanic kept the grin to himself; he and 'Nikita' tended to not see eye-to-eye on certain aspects but, like Miss Cordy, he saw El's happiness and seceded. "Y'all waitin' fer som'one in those tracks?" "Nah, just a little something we do to stay in contact." In the back of their minds, War and Conquest were laid to rest and life was finally mundane enough to let their guards down.


	3. Old Comrades in the New Town

A/N: Two Survivor teams finally meet and some issues arise in a certain conman...don't lower your guard though, nothing's ever this good and not be rotten underneath. Thank you for the reads!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (C) VALVe

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Chapter 3: Old Comrades in the New Town**

Just as they all agreed, the Survivors met up at one of the tables in the Amtrak Station that led other survivors like them into one of 20 reconstructed cities from what the outside world regarded as the worst biological disaster known to man. As much as the PNCA tried to sell it as divine salvation, a good chunk of the population made it out alive and healthy by the skin of their teeth, seeing horrors that most probably needed a psychologist...or an endless barrel of strong alcohol. "I can tell from here you're 'bout to get yer payday, Nicolas," Coach commented as he and the conman shook hands. "I am appalled you, of all people, would think so!" Nick quipped then greeted Rochelle. It always surprised him how much he had grown to trust and care of these people better than the "family" he relied so long in his previous life. But that was mostly due to their shared experiences and how they opened their arms to welcome him in...particularly Ellis. "Lunch's on me but only because Rochelle decided it was."

"So I told the man, 'If you don't want your fiancée to find your li'l some on the side, don't send it where she works!' And then, the guy got bitch-slapped so hard, I thought the woman was a Tank with boobs," she concluded her story and let her friends catch their breath from laughing. "Jesus Christ, some people are just asking for it," Nick chuckled while Ellis tried so very hard and in vain to stifle an uproar. For the last hour and a half, the Survivors had spent their time laughing and telling their stories in a good-humored pissing contest. By far, the weirdest had to be the mechanic's interpretation of a car that he and Keith _believed _to be possessed; Ellis managed to call a priest to check it out before his buddy lit the car like a barbecue. When asked about the resolution, the hick shrugged and stated, "I dunno; haven't seen eith'r th' car or th' priest in a while!"

He then turned to his lover, who remained quiet and listening, and asked, "Wha's it like in Chicago?" An annoyed expression took over Nick's face and tried to brush it off just as the Arrivals whistle shrill sounded right on time. "Believe me when I say that you're all better off without knowing Chicago the way I know it." Those were **nasty**memories he had no desire to revisit; he was happy now. "Aw c'mon, Nick! There musta been _som'thin' _good 'bout it!" "There's nothing good about being married into a Mob family with that harpy named Sele-"

"Oh my God...is that Francis?" Rochelle asked, eyes widened to the size of saucers; she knew those tattoos and that vest anywhere. The group stared at the incoming crowd and zeroed into where the young woman was pointing. "Holy shit, those are the guys from Rayford Bridge!" Coach added with delight: the Philly group had survived too! Except they all wore paper masks for some reason...and that brought back that miserable moment in their lives: Carriers. "Maybe they're fine," El wished in a low voice. "That train makes periodic tests; they'd be shot on sight if they were positive," the oldest of the group quickly reasoned, hopeful no one had to be shot on sight like last month. With a population of 50,000 and growing, City 17 couldn't afford an Infection; not when babies were already inside their mothers' wombs.

"Either way, let's jus' go down there an' let 'em know there's friendly faces 'round," the youngest concluded and headed off to the tracks. Coach and Rochelle didn't take too long to follow but Nick stuck behind for a minute, uncertain...Ellis' angel had come back and now, despite his massive pride and prowess, he started to feel like he was the appetizer to Zoey's main course.

"Man, I hate trains! Too damn stuffy," Francis quickly growled as he stretched his back. "Really? You hate the one thing that got us out of the Keys with our skins intact? Man, you need _help_," Louis said while helping Zoey out of the cabin, "But it was kinda over-crowded." "I'm just glad we didn't get dragged back by those Smokers!" Zoey added, rubbing the almost-invisible bruises around her neck; it still felt weird to be around people without getting shot or infecting someone else. Ever since that diagnosis in Camp Milhaven, the three remaining Survivors from Philadelphia have avoided contact with the general public, isolating themselves from the rest in one of the Florida Keys. "Zoey!"

_No way...Ellis?_ The new arrivals practically twisted their backs all around to locate the origin of the sounds. Evidently, the Survivors that they had helped cross the bridge into Mississippi were alive, well, and welcoming them into this new place. "How'd y'all been!" "Holy shit, you're more indestructible than I am! Not as bad ass though," the biker exclaimed rather shocked that everyone, especially Rochelle made it out alive...though he was _secretly_ happy about that last one. The grin on the ex-reporter grew just a little bit at that. "I knew you'd all make it out alive!" Coach added, "Don't just stand there; come on over to my place an' we'll get you people a good hot meal."

Not people to say no to free food, both Francis and Louis hopped on the idea and let Coach lead them to his vehicle. "Hey, Col. Sanders! Didn't think I'd come out of that hellhole, didya?" Ever the instigator, the biker spat at Nick, but the target delayed for a moment in replying; his lover was getting reacquainted with his biggest crush. A more perfect ticking time-bomb there never was. "So there I was-" "_We were_." "Shuddup Louis. There _I _was, knee-deep in Hunters and Smokers, getting' torn apart while Louis and Zoey were fightin' off the hordes and trying not to get killed when we-" Francis was retelling his rehashed and obviously exaggerated story but, to the conman, he might as well be telling how he met the Pope; his eyes looked intently at the increasingly chummy young couple. Yes, he was jealous, fuck off.

Tensions finally came to a head just as Mrs. Florence served up the chowder bowls and Zoey managed to sneak a feel up Ellis' arm, from the Conquest tattoo to his shoulder. Nick simply huffed "Going out for a smoke," and swiftly stood up from the table. "Did I say something wrong?" Louis had to ask, confused while the mechanic chased after him. As per his statement, the conman was lighting a cigarette and drawing one long breath. "Nick, what th' fuck's wrong witchu? Those are our guests yer blowin' off! Yer actin' like a fuckin' diva!" Miss Cordy warned her boy about city-slickers when he was 5 years old and the caution started to ring true. The older of the two shrugged and tried to play it up as nonchalant as possible. "I did warn you and you were sobusy with your _an-_gel Zoey-" Ellis had to stop Nick right there and just stare. "Yer all worked up because I was helpin' her cope with all this new shit? Jesus, Nick! Ma was righ', yew can and _will be _a piece o work!"

"Then why are you still with me then, hm? It can't be because we were McKinley's lab rats," Nick shot back, jealousy finally rearing its green head. Ellis was stunned by the question for a moment then answered, "It ain' jus' tha' an' y'know it. Yew got me outta 'Vannah and out t' New Orleans. Yew helped me keep me sane in Meridian an' gave me an' th' others th' will to dump tha' place." The answer was raw and so honest it hurt. "Zoey's my girl but, Nick," for this, the mechanic drew closer and gave Nick a smoky kiss, "Yer my Angel of Death an' nothin' changin' tha'. Plus yew do this neat li'l trick with yer tongue when yew go down on me." That last part earned Ellis a laugh from the gambler; there was only one person in the world that could get away with calling him his Legion code name. "Now let's git back in there an' show these northerners wha' Austin can do fer 'em."

Both Horsemen hopped back inside, neglecting to notice that the youngest pf the Philly survivors had accidentally listened in on the impromptu demonstration of love. She felt awkward in her actions, she was only trying to catch up with the life she desperately clung to. After Bill's death back at the bridge with the three Tanks, Zoey was trying to keep her stable mind in check with the dream of the cities. To be accepted into this place...well, it's a start, the veteran would've liked it, after killing enough zombies to clog up a landfill.


	4. CEDA Testing Grounds

A/N: CEDA returns to its experiments and attempts at both a cure and a purpose for the Green Flu for widely different reasons. One wants to solve the enigma that is the virus while the other wants to provoke the Biblical Apocalypse. Enjoy this chapter and thank you for the reads!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (c) VALVe, Samael (c) docmilbury, McKinley (c) me

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Chapter 4: CEDA Testing Grounds**

Leon Samael could barely contain the snide grin on his face as his Beast ravaged the forest landscape, ridding the world of the Infected in astounding numbers, even more so than McKinley's Horsemen. Said scientist, however looked down at the demonstration with contempt and disdain; all she saw was corporate espionage at its best and most blatant. "Come now, Erin; we all must admit defeat some time in our lives," he said in his usual cold and insincere tone. "That's _Doctor_ McKinley to you and I can only admit defeat when you admit you _stole_ this from me."

Yes, in the world after the Apocalypse and after the Fall of Meridian, there are still dick contests and the Ice Queen always won...up until four months ago. No longer was CEDA under military surveillance but now the Proserpine Pharmacy Group, the only last major company that survived the Green Flu. That put her and her indispensable aid, Dr. Jessica Holden, under the snide bastard that was currently grinning delight. "Lilith has surpassed your prototypes in every manner and you know it. She's become this perfect blank state, no free will to cloud her mind and yours? They ran away from a little _push _of authority," Leon continued rubbing salt on her wounds, exposing the glaring flaw that she couldn't refute.

From the moment the group was confirmed immune and viable for further experimentation, McKinley knew she'd have her hands full with them. These were people that, as much as she and her assistants isolated them, had their lives and their links to the outside world. They were stubborn, back-talking, and at times, outright rebelling; the only way to control them was through Cole's rather brute and primitive methods. She much rather preferred chemical means, like induced sleep and sodium amythal. As an example, she injected Famine with an obscene amount of the substance just so he could tell her exactly what had happened during the Harrison County job.

"That little push of authority was excessive at the time; they were not mentally prepared for the tasks the military had in mind for them," Erin instantly quipped, already reminding herself that the brute was _not_ in control...though she did miss taunting Nathan for his almost-adorable devotion to keeping Meridian afloat. "Had they been subjected to the control mechanisms, they would still be with us. Lilith is exactly that, a blank state. She has no capacity to learn thanks to your _requested _modifications." These modifications messed with both the front cortex and the amygdala of the brain, making the Beast incapable of feeling emotions, just like her "father". McKinley was the only one in that restructured government structure to notice their boss was a diagnosed sociopath but every record she tried to find on him was met with walls and bureaucratic red tape.

"I'd consider that an improvement over the tripe your prototypes were," Samael continued his side of the argument whilst pouring himself a good glass of bourbon. "Look at her and you can see the future of your project. The Beast is what will provide us with a viable cure for the virus and the weapons necessary to exterminate the rest of the Infected from the world." "Then why are _you_ still searching for the Horsemen? I have my reasons but all you've done is berate my creations," the doctor interrupted, her blue eyes glaring down at the poisonous young man in his seat of power. Ever the politician, Leon returned the stare with an empty one, languid smile on his lips. He was supervising CEDA's actions for a while and knew of the search for those four individuals currently worth more than a Predator plane...well, three as the confirmation of Famine's demise in an unmarked envelope came with those bloody and dented tags. Ever so cold-hearted, Erin simply shrugged at the news and wrote down: _Death is possibility: Immortality not achieved._ "They can be improved upon, no need to trash them outright!"

Compared to anything that had been achieved before; the Beast was almost twice as effective as the previous models, surgically precise and able to outlast them by 3 days of no rest. Along with the Rhamnusia strain's enhancements, her growth was exponential relative to a normal human thanks to the γ-strain, nicknamed the Minoan Strain, straight from a Witch herself. It was such that everyone involved, even Holden, as disdainful as she was to the rest of humanity except for Erin, called it Samael's Little Monster. But to the politician currently sipping very expensive alcohol, she was _perfect_.

"Anything else or are you going to gloat some more at my expense?" she had to ask, clearly annoyed and checking her watch; she had work to do. "Why the rush? Your time is _my _time and I can do what I want with it," the executive countered, smile now headed into predator territory, "It's only a matter of time before Lilith brings her siblings home." To refer to _her_ Horsemen as that bastardization of science's brothers and sisters made the geneticist's blood quietly boil but they both knew she couldn't say anything. Scratch that last part; McKinley would much rather deal with Sgt. Cole's ignorance that Samael's near-omniscience. The only saving grace about this takeover was that only two people in the organization knew this behemoth's one weakness and how to exploit it...if the need should ever arise.

Leon chuckled as the scientist left without dismissing her; he considered Erin a brilliant mind and just that. In his eyes and his flagship organization, the PNCA, she was only a means to the ultimate end. With the country's surviving minds, he could rebuilt this land into what he saw fit...and once he had the missing subjects in his control, he could properly start the Apocalypse.


	5. Nightlife in Austin

A/N: The illusion of a practically normal life is shattered during a night of stress release as the Beast makes a splash into the Austin streets. This chapter had a lot of trial versions that just didn't fit but this incarnation captured the moment right. Thank you for the reads and reviews!

DISCLAIMER RECOGNIZE IT (C) VALVe

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**Chapter 5: Nightlife in Austin**

Two weeks after their arrival, the Philly survivors were just finished setting up when Ro invited them to live the nightlife she and her friends had grown to enjoy. "Partying at a disco club? Sounds kinda...cramped, don't you think?" Louis reasoned; holy shit, he hadn't gone partying in a while, aside from those obnoxious office parties he was forced to go to before... "You guys deserve it and Francis, if you say something along the lines of 'I hate', I will beat your ass back to Pennsylvania," the delivery girl remarked with a genuine smile. "Ha! I'd like to see you try, pumpkin!" the biker shot back, totally unaware. "Don't tempt me. Y'all meet up at The Juliet, 8 pm sharp!"

In the mean time, Nick and Ellis were just about to visit Miss Cordy and drop off a full bouquet of orchids. "Jesus Christ, do I have to go? Your mother is two comments away from breaking my skull with a rolling pin," the conman groaned, unrelenting from his grip on the (stolen) Ferrari door. "An' yet yer still here...c'mon admit it, yew like her bein' all hen-like. An' make tha' one comment, last time, yew went a li'l far with th' _Deliverance_ jokes," the mechanic said already knocking at the door. "I should've known it was a freaking set-up by your uncle. And I'm only doing this because I want to fuck you in a public place tonight."

When Nick turned around, he was met with a rather ambivalent Miss Cordy, arms crossed on her nice and bloody apron from making her boys some lunch. "I'mma pretend I didn't hear tha', Nikita; yew shoul' know bett'r than t' discuss matters o' the bed in front of yer ma-in-law," the sexagenarian quipped, making Ellis turn red and unable to meet his mother's eyes as he stepped into the modest home. "Even with the threat of violence, you're still better than my ex-_suegra_. _Buona tarde _and goodbye," Nick tried to get away before El betrayed him and dragged him inside.

The inside of Miss Cordy's house was something the Northerner expected from a proper Southern woman: there was a mantle of full photos and toys she managed to save from Savannah after the purge. There was a picture or two of Ellis and Keith as children and, what do you know? They hadn't changed a bit, as the picture caught the older boy with a broken baseball bat and a missing tooth. "You sure Keith isn't yours? He and your son look and act quite similar." "I reckon they could've been brothers if I'd met Keith's daddy first," Miss Cordy beamed while Ellis would rather not discuss his conception. Nick just smirked at that line of thought and sat down. "Conned an'one, dear?"

"You might say that," the conman grinned at the question, earning him a sly smile from Ellis. It had been almost 12 years since he was a cat burglar but with this new body, Nick could afford it and always got El whatever he and his family needed. "Y'all behave, y'hear? I don' wanna pick yew two up at th' police station ag'in fer indecent 'xpoure. " Miss Cordy scolded rather humorously and spread the drinks around. "Whoa, that was _your son_'s idea, not mine; I like being out of prison thank you very much." "Wassnot! How dare yew accuse me of tha-" Ellis started chuckling but instantly shut down to say grace. Yes, this was so freaking homely it should've been on a freaking postcard but Nick felt right holding his pseudo-mother-in-law's hand in one and the man who saved his life and loved him unconditionally.

~0~

To enter the Juliet and any club, citizens had to bring along their CEDA commissioned passes to prove they were Infection-free and able to be in an enclosed space. Under their assumed names, the Savannah Survivors skipped ahead having been tested negative on all counts. Tonight was to let loose; it was almost 9 months since the Apocalypse started and 7 months since the Reconstruction took place. Dressed appropriately for a night about in a short pink dress town and a wig to conceal herself, Rochelle waved to her Philadelphia counterparts while Nick was already schmoozing the waitresses to lower his and El's tab. His case wasn't helped by said young man sitting on his lap.

"You guys made it!" the reporter exclaimed just a little too happily; she was trying very hard to hide the fact that she was in heat, eager to get it on with anyone that was a willing and healthy male. "I hate clubs," Francis groaned before getting an elbow to the ribs by Louis. "Be nice, asshole. Thanks for inviting us to this! Work was killer!" the manager replied while Zoey shrugged in her red cocktail dress. "Only because you spent it playing video games." The music was loud, the lights flickering in every conceivable color and the throngs of people pulsing with the rhythm. "Come on, we ain't getting' any younger!"

Moving her hips to the pulsing beat, Rochelle was already attached to Francis and letting, as the track exhorted, let her freak flag fly. Her movements ran against him, heat building up between them and it wasn't all just friction with the clothes. It was raw and wild, and the young woman couldn't help slip a smile when she spotted her friends in a tiny almost invisible corner of the club, making out furiously. Two weeks without any type of intimate contact just to see if they could last for a bet had them wasting no time in resuming where they left off. She'd have her fun too with her dangerous date, who was clearly enjoying himself.

Maybe it was their hunger or the fact that their bodies were programmed to go overboard whenever they could smell the female human weapon in her prime, either way all three of the modified Survivors were starving for intimate contact. Ellis and Nick wasted no time in getting heavy, hands roaming in places that would make a whore blush. "Oh baby, I missed yew," the mechanic whined while his hips rode on those suit pants, letting his mouth latch onto his lover's earlobe and later his eternally stubbled jaw. Just from hearing that made Nick hard and uncomfortable in the best way possible...Ellis had a way to rile him up and make him pant.

He felt his prize already up and willing but they weren't exactly friendly with the local police department since Nick got caught on his knees and putting out El's candle in an alleyway a few weeks back. Each ravishing kiss burned that memory to ashes, the two had to get somewhere private in that very moment or they would have to stay with a very particular stain on their crotch. "I wantchu, Nick," the younger of the two growled, eyes positively lighting up the dark VIP room as Nick bit down and suckled the excited skin until it bruised. It would disappear anyway but it's the thought that counts.

No longer able to wait for a cab and seeking that additional thrill, they both left through the back door, seizing each other with kisses and touches until they located the emergency exits stairwells. The conman leaped the ten feet up to the first stop and held out his hand for the mechanic. "God, Nick, I haven't done this in a long-ass time," Ellis quickly joined him up and locked lips for another few seconds. "Doesn't seem like it, then again, no blood's flowing into my brain...race you home, sport." Their friendly rivalry quickly sprang back to life and soon enough, they were hopping rooftop to rooftops in the bordering buildings. "C'mon ol' man! A lame turtle can run faster than yew!" "Fuck off _Ayluss, yer not as fast as yew think yew're!_" Nick shot back, keeping par with his younger peer; he was going to pile-drive him into the bed when he was done.

~0~

Meanwhile, back at the St. John's Delivery Service, Ronnie and Tom were just about to close down the shop along with the night shift cyclists when they spotted a little girl. "Hi there? Are you lost?" Ronnie, a 36 year old Tallahassee native who lost her own children to the Infection, called out. This was a small thing, barely 6 years old, dressed in a very formal black coat and dress, her curly hair held back by a matching headband. "I wish to know the whereabouts of one Rochelle-" a passing motorcycle censored the surname but it couldn't hide how proper the strange little girl was. "There's no one here by that name. Is that your mommy?" the older woman continued, signaling her co-manager to get a phone. The moment everyone looked away, the child took out an Uzi from her skirt and fired away. Every last one was killed instantly, shot to the head and heart. "My mother is War," the little girl concluded logically, hopping over each body and delivering a letter to the front desk.


	6. Happiness Never Lasts

A/N: A ruthless murder puts the Survivors back on high alert, now aware that they're hunted down...their acquaintances and loved ones as the bait. This chapter was a bit fun to write, and yes, this marks the end of the group's nice calm life. Thank you for the reads and the reviews! WARNING: There's the use of the c-word ahead but for the sake of not-getting-ass-banned, it'll be censored...slightly.

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (C) VALVe

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Chapter 6: Happiness Never Lasts**

The next morning, just like every other morning for the last three months, the mechanic and the conman stirred awake in their bed, thoroughly spent from the night before. "I win, Nicky," Ellis simply grinned and pecked his lover's lips. "Pay up darlin' an' I only take cash." The older man growled then turned around to get his wallet from the floor. "You sound more and more like a slut everyday _Ayluss_," Nick remarked, flashing the $400 then placing them on the rim of Ellis' hat; Nick had been the first to give into their lust-ridden adventure. "You think Ro walked away with that greasy biker guy?" "She's in heat, boo; tha' man had th' ride o' his life," El joked around and grabbed his boxers and formal jeans. He was right on that account.

"From all tha' las' nigh', I betcha yew ain' jealous o' Zoey," he continued while putting on his clothes. Nick clicked his lips in disappointment; he could stare at Ellis all day long. "You kidding? Now I have a possessive streak to back it up."

But that jovial mood lasted only until the mechanic arrived at work and found his best friend deeply worried and listening to the radio. "Wha's wrong, Keith?" El had to ask while he dumped his work bag and walked closer. "There's been a shoo'out, execution-style, at th' St. John's place," Keith replied stiltedly. The jolt of the news made the hick's blood run cold, his mind already flashing back to those ten Carriers and his own part in the Meridian massacre. He knew Rochelle and Coach must've heard the news too. "Som'one jus' walked into th' place an' killed ev'ryone inside," the older of the two Savannah Survivors concluded as he switched off the radio... "They nev'r stood a chance."

"Holy shit, do they have any suspects?" Ellis inquired further, head already formulating ways to avenge those souls. "Yeah, they foun' a letter on th' front desk, addressed t' som'one named War..." Everything after that word was static noise and it made him feel numb; it had been three months since anyone heard that name. By instinct, the young man clutched his dog tags and quietly murmured, "Tha' c*nt, McKinley." Half the reason the Legion experiments were so brutal was her fault...she and her fucking virus were at the root of this murder. "Whatchu say, El?" Keith inadvertently asked. "Nuthin', jus' some bad memories from th' trip here. I'mma call Ro t' see if she's fine." This had bad news written all over; someone in the city knew about the Horsemen and was actively hunting them down.

The news was on the minds and mouths of everyone in City 17; who could've done such an atrocious act? Because Austin was mainly run by the military, gang-related business had yet to form. Most, if not all of the colony had been touched by the Green Flu and this was their salvation. In the seven months since the Reconstruction, there had been no murders registered mainly because the population was tired of the senseless killing and got all their pent-up homicidal desires out with the Infected. Even the usual drunks at Nick's bar were discussing the deaths of those upstanding citizens as the conman kicked them out so he and his comrades could talk in privacy. The worst hit of them all was Rochelle; Ronnie and Tom were the type of people that gave her a job and a slice of a normal life she desperately needed, no questions asked.

"Because of me, they're dead," she murmured, letting red tears slip down into Coach's arms as he embraced her, trying to make sense of it all. "What's this 'it's your fault' bullshit? You know as well as I do that it's CEDA trying to cover their asses," the conman spat back, snapping the others out of their self-imposed dour. "They want us back _any way_ they can have us." " 'Xcept Coach, remember?" Ellis clarified; according to the government, the oldest of their group was deceased. Nick rubbed his forehead, a telltale sign that shit was piling up a creek and he just lost his paddle. "I hate to say it but...I think it's time we go-" "Fuck off, I ain' leavin' my momma an' my best friend again!" the hick snapped, "Specially if there's a chance tha' whatev'r killed Ro's employers is lookin' fer us! How am I t' explain t' 'em tha; 'oh hi y'all, I got turned int' a fuckin' weapon an' now CEDA's killin' ev'ryone I care about'?" "Like that but with more feeling."

Coach slammed his hands onto the sturdy oak bar table to spot the bickering men, "The point of the matter is tha' CEDA's caught on an' they know we ain't comin' back without a fight. Youn'un, all we can do is lay low." That was _not_ what Ellis wanted to hear but he knew better than to question Coach; he was torn between telling his family what happened nine months ago and keeping that secret under wraps just a little while longer. "Whatev'r here, we have to find it and get rid of it as soon as possible." The mechanic then looked at his lover but all he saw was a stoic poker face. In that moment, another PNCA radio commercial aired and it was eerily accurate at that time...

_We mourn those who have given their lives to restore our great city with their love and perseverance. They now join the Lord in the glorious light of Paradise. Do not fear Death for it is only a stepping stone into a better world. God will let not the devils who caused this pain go unpunished._

"Well, I feel like crap," Rochelle hissed defiantly, not exactly hiding her disdain at being called a 'devil'. "Don't let them get to you; I already had them over and they are a chatty bunch," the conman argued while taking out his gun and checking the cartridges. "Besides, we have bigger problems than a fanatic club of fundamentalists." Nick knew that both Coach and Ellis had a point, and he hated the fact that they might be wrong. Whatever killed those five people was methodical and planned; something more military than CEDA. There was also the fact that the government agency responsible for their transformation had been taken over by some private company so they wouldn't soil their hands with the blood of customers. Either way, tonight, he was getting his-

Almost on cue, the Survivors heard a knock on the door and they all tensed for a second until Ellis recognized the guest. "Ma, whatchu doin' here?" The older woman quickly hugged her child and replied, "I wanted t' see how yew were doin'! Tha' massacre got me all worried 'bout yew an' Nikita! How's Chell doin'?" Rochelle sighed out, happy someone like Miss Cordy existed, a grandmotherly type that they could all go to at a time of need. "Right here, Miss Cordy." As Coach said his goodbyes and headed to the door, he had to leave one last warning at Nick. "Don't do anything stupid; it ain't just about you any more." "When have I ever done something like that?"

That night, the conman paid off one of the policemen with an undisclosed amount of cash and alcohol to let him look around the evidence locker. From his position as one of the few legitimate bar-owners in town, he could listen in on the grapevines of the city; a good con artist had to know his targets. He knew Coach and Rochelle would be pissed if they found out but he had to find out what they were up against. Silently, Nick surveyed the rows and rows of evidence boxes with only his flash light and a general sense of direction. "St. John...St. John, where the fuck is that box?" he hissed then heard a commotion by the nearest window. Instantly, Nick grabbed his combat knife and held his ground in a stance: he knew he wasn't followed but if he had to gut someone right here, he had no problem.

"Put tha' down, it's me," the Southern drawl calmed the conman down...somewhat. "What are you doing here, Overalls? I thought you were a good Christian man." "Same thing yer doin' only I ain' got th' cash t' bribe people with," Ellis' expression was dark when he said that; this was not something he wanted to do but _had to_. "Just wear some damn gloves, we're already on record under our assumed names," Nick growled back, putting the weapon away and resuming his search. A few minutes later and he found the evidence boxes pertaining to the case. The crime scene itself was pretty gruesome but that wasn't the reason they were both breaking the law.

The letter was in a formal but unmarked envelope; its contents quite unremarkable to the common person. It read:

_War, you and the remaining Horsemen are due to return into CEDA'S custody as soon as possible. If not, there were be consequences. Let us avoid any unnecessary pain and bloodshed to your loved ones._

The letter itself made Ellis' whole body boil in rage quite unlike anything he had ever felt...whoever controlled that monster went against everything he knew to be right and threatened his family. "Fucker's toying with us," Nick spat, crushing the paper in his gloved hands and tossing it back into the the box. "He's using our sentimentality against us." "Fucker's gonna die when I catch 'im," El threatened as he stomped his way back to the window he used to come in. With no choice but to follow him (and make sure he didn't do something stupid), Nick caught up with the hick on the city's alleyways. Right then and there, he would not have minded taking on some Hunters or a horde of Common Infected right now. "Ellis, we can't just barge in and slaughter everyone who's a threat to you! That worked outside, when we were knee-deep in zombies trying to tear us apart!" he yelled out to reason with his infuriated lover. "Then wha' th' fuck am I s'pposed t' do then? Hand our asses over t' CEDA an' let tha' bitch do as she pleases while our folks don' have anyone t' protect 'em?" the mechanic shouted back.

"God no...we follow Coach and we _lay low,_" Nick advised in a level tone, "They already shown us what they can do; they're going to start looking and they won't do anything until we give them reason to."

~0~

On the other side of Texas, Samael was only lightly bothered by the killing spree his creation had caused, but because her dress got dirty. "Did you eliminate every witness like the lieutenant told you to, dear Lilith?" he inquired ever so careful; the Beast knew who not to kill on sight and that was him. "Yes, Father; but no sign of my mother or my brothers," the devil in the form of a doll answered in an almost-robotic voice. There was no real emotion in those eyes when she said, "but I know they're there...I can smell them."

The only reason Sgt. Nathan Cole was even in the office was because of his experience with the targets. He didn't know them personally and, frankly, he had no desire to; they were McKinley's Frankenstein monsters. And this Beast? That was the embodiment of what Cole considered inhumane. "You heard the little lady, Sergeant; they're in Austin," Leon remarked and dismissed the soldier on cue while two scientists took Lilith away for tests. "I'll have some of the Shelby men pick them right up, sir," Cole asserted dissociatively and radioed the command; he was the only one of the US Army who didn't submit to the game the PNCA and CEDA were playing. "Do be careful; those creatures might still be a little sore from Lilith's display."


	7. Bar Brawl

A/N: It's time for the Horsemen to tell the truth and leave but they might as well take down some bastards while they're at it. I hope the chapter captures the frantic pace and a mention of Bill. Might be spoilery if you haven't read/played The Sacrifice. Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (C) VALVe

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Chapter 7: Bar Brawl**

Just like Nick promised, the killer didn't strike again after a few days since the murders but that calm never lasted brought no real comfort to the group. It was such a day like this that the Philadelphia Survivors came in for a drink at a restaurant up on the second floor of another bar downtown. "Man, I thought we were done with monsters and shit," Zoey groaned, trying to stifle a headache with a Bloody Mary; the week had not been kind to her at her rather-menial job as a clerk in some office. Ever the optimist, Louis patted her back and said, "Hey, they'll catch the guy or guys who did it, okay?" "Yeah, they will," Ellis added, carefully maneuvering around the fact that he and his friends would make sure of that.

Francis, however, was a bit more perceptive than his comrades and watched as Rochelle arrived with their meals. "You okay? You look like you're about to crack," he asked, taking heed the sudden fire in the ex-reporter's eyes. "Hm?" she snapped out of her "daze", her eyes had been darting across the room, trying to locate anyone even remotely associated with CEDA. "I'm fine; just...a little pissed off with everything." "That's the spirit!" Ever since they hooked up at the Juliet and the fervent night that followed, War avoided the biker until she was stable again...

Nick and Ellis didn't mention the contents of the letter or the fact that that they read it in the first place; that would be stupid and incur her wrath as well as Coach's. Before they could even drop a hint to Ro, Zoey said to herself, "It's been seven months since Bill died." To the Savannah group, that was random to say the least but to her travel mates, it was just more to add to the mourning atmosphere. Bill had been their de-facto leader during the first few weeks in the Zombie Apocalypse, and had become a sort-of father figure to the college student, to the point that even the memories didn't seem that bad. By the stories they spoke, Ellis was only sad his group met the veteran as a strangely well-kept corpse."Well then let's just drink to the old guy, shall we?"

All six raised their glasses and, before their lips met glass, the whole scene was broken by the stomping arrival of soldiers and CEDA personnel. "Hands where we can see them! You're under arrest!" the squad captain shouted pointing their guns at the one table. "Oh shit! They found us!" Francis hissed, instinctively shielding the youngest member of them all...they should've been more careful in covering their tracks from escaping Milhaven. The restaurant emptied out in fear of retaliation; no one really wanted to get shot down by these guys.

"They're not here for you," Nick corrected calmly, drinking his shot of tequila and grabbing the steak knife from his plate while Ellis smashed his beer bottle and Ro a box cutter she brought from work. "They're here for _us_." They want a fight? They got it. In a blink of an eye, all three disappeared in a blur of movement and blood started to spray the room. Three soldiers fell dead and weaponless, the rest now threatened by each Horseman possessing their handguns. Francis had only seen that kind of speed on a Hunter on crack and suddenly, all those flirting threats became horrifyingly real. "Holy shi-"

"Legion Experiments Conquest, Death, and War, you are hereby arrested for going AWOL on a security crisis in NAS Meridian. You are to be relocated immediately to Camp Killeen" the captain declared, held hostage by the end of Ellis' gun barrel. "We don' feel like goin' back, y'hear?" the hick-turned-human weapon growled, "do yew?" "Then you'll be held on high treason," the soldier replied just before being pistol-whipped unconscious. Nick and Ro followed their comrade's example and mirrored the actions, knocking down their own hostages and sniping the rest of the squad's knee caps out of commission.

"What the fuck just happened?" Louis exclaimed in nothing but surprise as the army men writhed in pain and blood beneath them. "You just went fucking Special Ops on them!" These were _so not_ the same bunch they helped cross the bridge. "Ugh, I actually like this suit..." Nick complained as the blood stained his black suit, at least it was dark color. "Ro, get these guys to the safehouse ASAP then head over to the Amtrak station to train _trentatré__,_ we're leaving." "Will do," the ex-reporter nodded and yanked Francis' wrist, "Come on, let's go before they call their friends!"

As soon as the Philly survivors were gone, Ellis looked back at his lover and shook his head, "I ain' goin' nowhere until I say my goodbyes." "I know," the conman gave his partner a soft smile and led the way to jump off the back windows down two stories to land on their feet and away from the already incoming troops. "Shit! Car's on th' oth'r side!" the mechanic cursed before he spotted a lovely Ducati bike left behind. "I don't mind riding bitch on this thing," Nick quipped with a grin. A hot-wire later and they were off, heading in the opposite direction of the blockades.

Once the couple arrived in front of Miss Cordy's home, Ellis could barely hold it together. "I can't do this." "Ellis, just do it before CEDA comes along and then we'd really be in deep shit," Nick comforted in his usual disdainful manner, trying to get this part over with. "They're going to be with Coach." "I know." Police sirens made everything extra urgent so the two hid behind the small home and knocked on the door. "Ellis? Whatchu doin' here? It's late," the hick's mother groaned then heard the wails. "What's goin' on?" Keith, who slept in the sofa, sat up and grabbed a shotgun, "El, are th' Infected-" "No but in yer case, they might as well be," the mechanic answered anxiously while he and Nick hurried inside to conceal themselves from any helicopter flights.

"Keith, you and El's mother are going to head to the Coach residence, two blocks down, third to the left," the conman commanded immediately, "He knows you and you'll be accompanied by three other Survivors. They're mostly harmless." "Wha' th' fuck are yew talkin' about? Does this have 'nythin' t' do with the St. John killin's?" Keith instantly pieced together. "Yes in the sense that the killer did in the wrong people," Nick finished off, leaving no space for doubt. The news shocked the older woman, who then gave one hopeful look at her child, "Issat true, Ellis [BEEP]?" _Please, please say no..._ Ellis' head dropped and he nodded. Miss Cordy's hands went straight to her face and she started pacing, "Tell me yer not som' gang killer or som' Carrier, baby," she pleaded then instantly withdrew from her son once the blood tears started flowing quietly from his baby blue eyes. Nick turned his own away from the sight; he was lucky he didn't have to go through this.

The hick grabbed a kitchen knife and warned, "Ma, Keith, I'mma show som'thin' an' I hope ya'll still think o' me as yer son." "Always, baby boy." With that, Ellis slashed a straight vertical line from his wrist to his elbow. The wound dripped slightly and closed just as quickly, making the devout Catholic woman's eyes widen. She didn't need a demonstration by Nick's part to understand their shared experience. "Wha' happened t' yew, Ellis?" "In layman's terms: in order to for us to survive...we let CEDA use us as guinea pigs," the conman stated to which Ellis concluded, "we let 'em turn us into human weapons. We sold our bodies t' th' Devil."

Keith staggered back into the couch, stunned mute by this revelation; his best friend was barely human and he kept it hidden for so long. "An' so th' massacre was?" "A warning; we can't risk you to be found by whatever did it so we're sending you to stay at a fellow experiment's home until everything settled. He's been declared dead by the Army so they won't look around with him," Nick explained when El remembered which train they were headed into. "So why're we goin' t' Chicago?" he had to ask his lover. That was answered with a long sigh; Nick's idea didn't sound so right. "Because it'll get us as far away from this Beast and...some of my old Mob contacts may be able to help us. I'll explain later but first things first."

Escorting Miss Cordy through the residential labyrinth proved to be an easier task once Keith joined their little party, a task made quiet by both the revelation and to allow better auditory surveillance. Just as the two Horsemen expected, Coach was already waiting for them with his recovering wife besides him. "Yew told her too, huh?" Ellis commented ruefully. "The truth will set you free, youn'un," was the last exchange before they disappeared back into the night. "Take care of yerselves, okay?" the mother blessed her two boys just as the motorcycle turned left.


	8. Tren Trentratré

A/N: The intermission between Austin and Chicago takes place while the three remaining survivors manage to catch their train and face an uncertain future. This is further clouded by Nick's own shadowy past and his reluctance to say more. The song Nick hums is a hint as to who he once was and shaped his as a person. Thank you all the reads and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it (c) VALVe, Senza Fine (C) Gino Paoli.

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**Chapter 8: Tren Trentratré**

"Got everything we need?" Nick hollered out as Ellis grabbed whatever they could from their apartment, mainly just their guns and swords. What? They were attached to the suckers; the blades had become an extension of their arms during their Meridian days and furthermore in their escape. Ellis was particularly attached to his, its extra angle made cutting Infected heads and limbs a freaking breeze. The other weapon was mostly for Rochelle, a fully loaded Desert Eagle that had been given during their "tour of duty" and never returned. "Yep," there wasn't a single optimistic trait in that drawl; it was all business. "Sport, we're coming back, I swear." Nick had to assure the younger of the two when the distant sirens became louder.

Sneaking around the parking lot and out of their home was considerably harder than to sneak in now that most had heard about the riot in the restaurant. As they rode away in their getaway motorcycles, the driver was starting to reconsider his choice. Chicago was far enough from to deal with their assailant and not hurt their loved ones but the seeking-help part of the plan was really a crapshoot. The only reason Nick knew his old "family" was still alive was during a radio interview he heard with Big Boss Giorgetti and his "humanitarian" efforts during the first wave. Something told the conman that if if he couldn't appeal to _him_, the other choice was almost unthinkable to him.

Practically on cue, Ellis' arms wrapped lightly around Nick's waist and leaned against his back to comfort him. "Don't get sappy, El," he warned through the traffic noise. "Shuddup, Nikita," the mechanic shot back lightly; he hated the fact that he had to leave this his home. Until the Army and CEDA lost interest in them, they'd never be set free and would be damned to keep running. Nick simply kept his eyes on the road and foot on pedal; they needed to be on time or else Rochelle would be on Train 33 all alone and with one hell of a problem in her hands.

The Amtrak was a round-the-clock institution where trains flowed to and from, every hour on the hour, delaying only to make sure no one was Infected. If Carriers were indeed found, they'd be disposed of on sight and discarded by the road in common burials. No one was taking risks. But there was one blind spot in the system: the storage cabins. Although they were guarded while loading, the guards would change shifts every ten to fifteen minutes before traveling to their destinations. "Time t' leave this bad boy behind," Ellis whined for a moment, taking in the slick vehicle before hopping over the barbed wire fence and lay low from the search lights. Controlling their breaths, both Survivors sprinted the half-mile between their original position to Cart 14, Train 33. When said train wasn't there, they frantically searched their surroundings until they heard the departure whistle.

"Shit, it's starting without us!" Nick exclaimed, now running faster than the human world record in order to catch up. "No shit, a-hole!" Ellis quipped, catching up to his partner and the cabin. "Over here!" Rochelle's voice echoed in their ears while she held out her hand. The mechanic managed to catch her in time to hop inside and wait for Nick to follow through. Once all three were safely incognito, the older of the three slammed the door shut, hiding their presence from the rest of the passengers. "Honest to God, what took you two so long?" the ex-reporter sniped while Ellis fixed his hand and handed her the oversized gun. "Had t' say goodbye t' my family," he answered bereft at being away from his life. "Oh...y'all going to be all right with those?" Nick shrugged at the question and concluded, "Steel doesn't jam at times of crisis." And the fact that he took some enjoyment pretending he was really in a Tarantino movie. "Get ready, it's going to be a _long_ ride." Eighteen hours long to be exact.

"_Senza un attimo di respiro, per sognare, per potere ricordare,_" Nick hummed along as his hands ran over the youngest Horseman's brown curls, letting him rest on his lap as Rochelle took over guard duty. By hour 8, Ellis had drained himself, scavenging food and some comforts for their trip by sneaking into the passenger cabins. He managed to bring back some cola and beer when he finally fell drowsy. Those three months restarted their circadian cycles to something remotely normal, as if waiting to be called back into service. It was rare to see but Nick had a habit of lullabying the hick, singing Gino Paoli's Senza Fine even if the recipient didn't understand a lick of Italian.

"You really love him, don't you?" Ro commented softly as soon as her comrade concluded his song. "I could answer that but then I'd have to kill you," the gambler chuckled, "I bet you're already missing Francis and riding him silly." "Ha ha..." the woman glared for a moment then became serious when she added, "Who are your contacts over in Chicago?" "The Giorgetti family," Nick answered as nonchalant as he could possibly, surprising the ex-reporter. "You ran with those guys? Nick, that was one of the 6 six families-" "I know, I was there; not in the front lines, _obviously_," Ugh, the memories were flooding back and none of them were fuzzy or warm. "It was...a bad career choice." Looking at his dog tag, focusing on the codename, it just seemed to resonate so much more in the context. But this Beast required extraordinary measures and, if his old gang survived the Apocalypse, they wouldn't mind killing just one more person...or Special Infected.

"You were burned weren't you?" Ro didn't know the right term but the point came across and suddenly, they were both thankful Ellis was a heavy sleeper. As much as they kid and fucked around, he looked up to the gambler as a pillar of stability, even if they were aware of his shady past. "_Burned_ is a light term to what happened to, Ro," Nick spat; they were already halfway to the Windy City and he was regretting his plan. "I'm only doing this for him."

~0~

Back in Austin, Cole himself was inspecting the damages and his three dead men while he let one deep sigh out. "Of course the Horsemen aren't here," he growled as the covered stretchers took the fallen and still living away to the morgue and the hospital respectively. "Any way of knowing where the targets escaped to?" One of the wounded soldiers, who happened to overhear Nick's orders, announced, "They're headed north sir; Train 33 or 13, I didn't hear right." For a moment, the sergeant pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, there were at least 5 cities and a dozen or so smaller colonies in those tracks. And the fact that Lilith was programmed to be target-oriented, he wasn't about to release her into the unsuspecting public.

"Mr. Samael asks what you're going to do, sir," his lieutenant inquired, the replacement to Lt. Bill Ripley in Meridian. "Tell him to restart the CEDA hotlines and offer a reward worth enough to someone to sell them out," Nathan commanded, "and to get in contact with own people to start looking for them. I'm not unleashing that little psychopath until _I'm_ sure the freaks are there."


	9. Home Sweet Hellhole

A/N: Happy New Year, you guys! Sorry for the delay for this chapter but college drained all my motivation for anything related to writing but enjoy this preview of what's in store for the Survivors in Chicago. Thank you for all the reads!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (c) VALVe

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Chapter 9: Home Sweet Hellhole

Chicago was just like the gambler left it; the only real change were the concrete walls and the official military name: the rather ironic name of City 2. The streets and train stations were congested with people minding their own, businesses in full furor and the iconic buildings coming back to life. The slight April chill of the Lake Michigan air wrapped around the three travelers, welcoming one of them back. "Seems like only yesterday I hightailed out of here and into Vegas," Nick remembered almost fondly and almost gave into the urge to visit his old neighborhood for- "Holy shit, this place is fuckin' _huge_!" Ellis' mouth ran off, simply stunned at the sight. The last big city the hick had gone to had been Atlanta and it had been just after settling the auto shop.

"Yeah well, stop gawking kid; we have to bunker down somewhere," Nick scolded the hick lightly before Rochelle slapped his back. "Be nice." As the three Survivors mingled and dispersed over to the bus system, it was no secret the process that the city had risen from the infected corpses and how quickly it regained its position of power. The twenty-foot walls surrounding the city were considerably older than those in Austin but it hid the bloodier wars fought for control. Rochelle confirmed her and Nick's fears once they both noticed the reduced military presence in the proportionally larger colony.

_But for a moment, as Ellis playfully dragged his older lover and best friend into the oversized vehicle, green eyes met silver but either side couldn't believe the other was alive...maybe it was just a vision caused by the Apocalypse._

"Fuck, I haven't been in this place in over three years," slipped out of the conman's lips, his voice echoing inside the townhouse he once called home. He knew, or at least assumed, that this was the only place CEDA wouldn't start looking, if they checked the city public records. Since his divorce, the once opulent place had been foreclosed and repossessed...until the cops found Colombian White Gold in the wallpaper. But even these facts didn't amount to a surprise for Nick to find the place wrecked; he and his ex-wife had a more..._direct_ manner of getting back at each other.

"Fuck, you got ransacked or something?" Rochelle let slip out, taking note of the torn sheets, burnt surfaces, and smashed windows, all devoid of blood otherwise indication of Infected presence. "Nope; this was all me." Ellis' eyes widened but he shot back sarcastically, "Why am I not surprised yer th' type t' get revenge?" "Don't look at me like that; she burned _my cars_, she had it coming," Nick retorted as if this was just a minor cosmetic difference than a full-on demolition derby, "I'm shocked this place is still standing!"

The conman couldn't deny the worry that swelled in his heart once he saw evidence of the zombies' entrance in the formerly luxurious home. The worst clue was the massive rotted red swash and possibly brain matter on the tile mosaic of St. Michael slaying the Chimera on the main entrance of the home. Nick had to smile genuinely as Ellis and Rochelle explored the spacious home like children in a new playground. "Shit, you were loaded...how high up were you in the family?" the ex-reporter noted further while the gambler's lover whistled at some torn furniture that looked more expensive than half the junk inventory back at Keith's auto shop. "Not that high that I'd get this for free; this was from _my_ sweat and brow...so to speak. So let's stop talking about my supposed Mafia connections and get comfy, because we have a busy day ahead," Nick retorted, instinctively grabbing El's shoulder and giving it a momentary tug before the group split to clear their safe house of vagrants and stray Infected.

"God, I have some memories here..." the older Survivor remarked as he and the hick checked out the areas alongside the bare bed in the master bedroom. Even with the outlines of objects long since looted, there was that lingering atmosphere reserved for an intimate place. "Think yew can make new ones?" slipped out of El's mouth in a crooked half-smirk; he took a slight jealous pleasure in the fact that he'd sleeping here...with Nick. Being with the man and enduring life's trials with him made the mechanic possessive; Ellis had earned his lover's respect and attention and like hell he was going to lose them. It certainly lifted the mood as the mid-morning sun shone through the glass windows. "I'd love to fuck you on my ex-wife's bed," the conman-turned-supersoldier smirked while he batted El off _his_ side of the mattress, "but let's focus on the sociopath hot on our asses, okay _darlin'_?"

"Wha' kinda cars didya drive?" Of course, Ellis thought about the cars as soon as they settled in the master bedroom and he was resting on the mattress. Neither of the trio were all that tired and there was plenty of sunlight out to aid them with their search for help. "Maserati, Jaguar, and if I remember right, a Rolls Royce," Nick answered honestly; saying the truth was still pretty novel for him. "Jesus Christ, yew already got a big pecker, why'd yew overcompensate with all them European cars?" Ellis exclaimed then found a rather strange look on his lover's face: loneliness. "Because I had to be made all the way to the bone, Ellis."

~0~

The owner of the gray eyes stood at that spot for an added two seconds and tried to make sense. She knew those pale green orbs anywhere and a long simmered fire flared back in her heart. Strutting her way into a seedy office building in the Little Italy district, everyone there _knew_ her and even the burliest men stayed clear off her path. She had the authority to make the two bodyguards stand aside. This was an Italian goddess in presence, with long dark hair arranged just perfectly and falling onto a black halter top and similar pants and 4-inch boots. "_Buon pomeriggio_, Mrs. Giorgetti," Goon #1, Valenciano greeted but he was brushed off as the woman continued her trek; she had to meet her husband.

And he found him snorting two lines of cocaine, to much of her disdain. "Really, Liam? It's 2:30, you could've at least waited until your father approved the shipments to the rich boy prick," the woman shot while shoving the wasted spouse off the glass top. "Shut up, Selene," the man growled as he wiped the the white powder off his nose. "the shipments are fine and so am I." Selene rolled her eyes and sat down on a love seat, pouring herself some of the expensive wine her father-in-law hoarded during the Apocalypse. "Guess who I ran into?" she commented off-handedly between sips; this fire had to be put out and it might as well do it. "A girlfriend of yours?" Liam sighed hoarsely, letting the stimulant take over his senses. "No, Nick." "We're fucking Italian, dumb bitch...there are 30 Nicks, Nickys, Nickis-" "Slumdog Nick," Selene concluded her drink; everyone in the neighborhood knew which one she was referring to.

For a second, it clicked and Liam started to laugh uncontrollably. "Jesus Christ, _he _survived? After we fucking burned him in that riverboat? Fucking karma's got it all wrong!" The mob princess remained ambivalent, "That's my ex-husband you're talking about."


	10. Urban Decay

A/N: Wow, it's been quite a while since I updated but like I said last time: college sucked the wind out me. Here's hoping this double-update makes up for it...In this chapter, Nick lets Ellis further into his rather sordid past while Selene makes her grand entrance. Reviews are welcome!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (C) VALVe

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**Chapter 10: Urban Decay**

As soon as they were ready with a quick change of clothes, the Survivors sneaked into an inbound bus back into the main city to search for their target. "So what's the plan Nick?" Rochelle murmured, sitting along the back while Ellis was sightseeing. "First we go check out any recent developments with the St. John's massacre, just in case there's any trace of the perp. Then, you two are going over to Southside and see if anyone from the neighborhood knows anything while I check out how many of my contacts survived the gang wars," Nick responded, using the in-vehicle map to point out the targets. "Th' wha' now?" that last part caught the hick's attention and caused him to glaze warily at his lover.

"The gang wars, dumbass; you never paid attention to the news or the Army status reports?" Before either could bicker, the reporter put her hand up and started off with: "When Chicago was first declared hospitable again by the Army, a lot of the old Mob families and street gangs began fighting each other for control while the government began building the walls we see around here. It got to a point that only six families survived: the Luda, Barnacelli, Giorgetti, O'Donnells, Tennembaums, and the allegiances between the various surviving street gangs."

The imagery in the hick's mind was not so far off from the actual pictures burned in Rochelle's; bodies piled up in mounds of 10 to 15, covered in bullet wounds. "After a while, the six families managed to drive the Army to the fringes, the city walls," she continued, isolating the outposts. "We could be here for weeks and CEDA wouldn't find us." "Tha's all nice an' neat but we _can't_ stay here," Ellis reminded them both darkly while fixing his always-present trucker hat. "Like hell I'm abandonin' my family again." The bus ride suddenly became quiet once more.

Once at the Public Records, Rochelle hopped off but not before telling her friends to "Meet up at the Sears Tower in five hours." "Aren't you going with her, Sport?" Nick inquired but got a shrug as a response, "I don' feel like it." The conman looked at Ellis and cleared his throat, "Rochelle's wrong; CEDA is everywhere. We're never completely safe." At the next stop, both Horsemen got off the vehicle and Nick shoved his hands into his pockets, walking the same beat he abandoned years earlier only with a sword on his back and a gun in his holster. Little Italy, or the reborn sector classified as such, still had that life the gambler cherished in his childhood, slipping a small smile in his eyes that the younger caught. There were markets, restaurants, and kiosks that were open even with the slight dour that came post-Green Flu exterminations. Some of the door frames still had the burn scars of the military clean-up crews' work; there was once Infected there.

"Mob 101 kiddo," Nick remarked while buying them both some street food, "see that window over there?" El turned around and spotted the window in question, decorated in hand-painted fleur-de-lis. "Yeah, wha' about it?" "That flower it's got all pretty is a sign of Luda territory. Back in the old days, they probably used that store to traffic the goods or as a measure to guarantee safety by the family. My old family marked them with three crowns." Nick grabbed a pencil and napkin to draw the three simple crowns in a triangle formation. "_Rispetto, Potenza y la Vittoria_, Respect, Power and Victory."

Ellis was almost enthralled by the sheer authority his lover was extolling and yet, "Yew weren' mob when we met back in 'Vannah, were you?" The gambler had to give it to the kid; he was quite observant. "Right, because-" "Because he was kicked out of the club, that's why," a sharp female voice said from behind, causing both men to be startled to the point of jumping. Standing just beyond Nick's shoulder was what El could call an Italian goddess; standing 5'6" with an additional four inches in heeled boots was a porcelain beauty unlike anything he had seen. Her long dark hair was perfectly styled to be tied in a loose half-ponytail but the one thing that struck the hick where those blue almost grey eyes that went right through him. Like Nick's.

Nick resisted the urge to turn around, trying to ignore her. "Where are your handlers, Selene? I thought Big Daddy Giorgetti never let you out of your sights." "I've been an independent little girl ever since Vincent became a Hunter and tried to decimate _your_ old crew while in route," the woman, possibly younger by a year or less retorted. "Ellis, ex-wife # 1; ex-wife #1, Ellis," Nick stated while Selene made her way to both their eyesights. "This is as close as you'll ever get to Mafia royalty, Georgia boy," Selene added, "And it's Selene Giorgetti to you now, slumdog." The conman smirked while taking a gulp of his drink. "You and Liam should've hooked up first; you two are just made for each other."

Suddenly she noticed that both had military dog-tags and her mind flashed back to a meeting her husband had a few days prior...

_Their chief financing partner sat in the table along with the other heads of gangs, commanding just as much authority as they did. He was accompanied by a blonde scientist in civilian clothes, clearly not as enthused as her handler. "As thankful as we are for your assistance in the Legion trials, we beseech you to aid us once more," the partner clarified and brought out copies of his files. "We've lost three weapons in the Fall of Meridian, code name are Conquest, Death, and War...we need them returned-"_

_Thomas O'Donnell smirked while skimming through the report, "You're all worked up over some bio-agents? In this shithole o' a country? I'd like to think that we're still in the Apocalypse and people have gone beyond worrying about li'l bottles of Green Flu." The handler grinned slightly, "These are not 'little bottles', please read ahead. But these targets are easily identified by..." _

"Hey Nicky, why don't you take the kid over to our old haunts?" the Mob princess invited with a plastic affection to both men. Before the conman could stop it, Ellis remarked, "Only if we're accompanied by yew an' ONLY you." The sassy little smirk he gave Selene was his way of grabbing Nick's crotch and claiming him. Selene knew when a discussion was over and patted her ex-husband's back, whispered, "_Incontriamoci al muro nord, nove, dobbiamo parlare,_" in the conman's ear and bid them "_Arrivederci_" and strutted her way back into the crowds. _Nick's turned to sucking dick...this is going to be __**so**__ much more gratifying, _she thought while she entered a Barnacelli clothing store and asked for the land line phone. After the Infection, cellphones were slowly coming back into usage but Selene wanted this message through fast. "Louie, get me my dear husband and my father's other verdugos. Payday's come home today."


	11. Broken Home

A/N: A quiet moment in the Survivors' lives and Nick reveals to Ellis his most cherished item in the world: his childhood. It also allows Rochelle to make some discoveries on who or what's behind the Beast and her killing spree. Reviews are welcome!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (C) VALVe

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Chapter 11: Broken Home  
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The block had become a ghost town but Nick was haunted by the images of a thriving life. This was a place where he and Ellis had to walk to; none of the buses or trains made a stop there anymore. He put a hand on the bright red bricks covered in grime and sighed out, "_Mia madre, Mērī mām̐_," he let slip, lost his memories. The mechanic knew that look: the look of a son. He pictured his lover, a child besides his mom, running and playing with his toy while they did errands. It brought back feelings of nostalgia; God, he missed his own mother back in Austin. By this hour, Miss Cordy would have a pot of gumbo or some bird Keith brought from the market for all four to eat.

"C'mon, El; I have something to show you. This place may be dead but it still has its secrets," Nick stated, snapping out of his reverie and leading his partner down the street and into the third building. One well-placed push got the door on the floor and ran up to the second floor. "Careful, this place always had a problem with termites." "No shit, it's got holes bigger than a freakin' watermelon," Ellis added, noting the large stains of past Infected presence. Seventh door to the left and Nick located the right door. "Don' tell me..."

A quick nod and charged kick later and the two Survivors were inside Nick's childhood home. "Lived here until my mother married and moved away," he explained, slightly sorry at how bare the apartment was compared to his memories. Ellis was blown away at how much Nick was allowing him into what was essentially the most intimate place in his life. So he remained quiet while the gambler searched around the kitchen. He found the characters etched into the underside of the counter and grinned, "She loved to call me Nika when I was good, Nicolas when I was in trouble, and my full name when I really screwed the pooch."

But before Ellis could properly stare at the marks, Nick was already tearing out one of the floorboards in the smaller of the two rooms. He took out a small Bible but he shook it until a Polaroid slipped out and put the book aside. The photo portrayed a woman, wearing a sari over her dress, carrying a small boy in her arms who had a mess of black straight hair and deep green eyes. The label read, "Amrita & Nicolas (name got smudged by age), 1979." "Yer mama was pretty, Nick..." "I could never understand why I love her, even after she abandoned me," Nick mused aloud while his hand held onto the old photo. "Tha's easy, Nick," Ellis looked up to his lover, his blues looking into greens with an eternal smile, "A mother is God in th' eyes o' her child."

Nick gave it some thought and grinned, "Wow, I never believed you possible of carrying such a complex thought." "Yer precious, really," Ellis shot back then leaned against him. "Why didya split with yer wife? Yew two made each oth'r happy once..." The smirk fell and Nick toyed with his sword, examining much deeper than usual. "It's complicated, Ellis," was his bare answer but Conquest wasn't satisfied. "Fixin' a jet's complicated, yer jus' not willin' to tell me 'bout her," the hick-now-transgenic concluded and stood up from the spot they were sitting, grabbing his katana along the way. They'd finally talked a bit about Nick's past and it was shut down by the man's insecurities.

"We were married for ten years," Ellis heard from the lobby and looked up. "First three years, yeah, I did love her but the other seven was just us festering hatred against each other," Nick added to his confession from the second floor before jumping off the rail and landing just besides his lover. "I don't talk about her because it's a chapter in my life I have no intent on looking back. I'm with you now and I intend to keep it that way for a nice long while."

When they did arrive at the bus station just a walking distance, Nick didn't get off the ride as Ellis did. "What're yew-" "Don't worry, Ellis; I'll be fine. I'm just going to tie up some loose ends," the older of the two assured and gave the mechanic a rare public kiss on the lips. "If I'm not back by sunrise, round up a search party." "Like hell, I'll find ya personally," El shot back and gave him a wink.

~0~

Meanwhile, Rochelle was deeply focused on solving the massacre that linked her and her comrades. She knew CEDA was involved but she couldn't find how it could be. She knew, deep inside, that McKinley had to have had a hand in creating the monster; the scent of Rhamnusia coated the scene the moment she found the bodies. But where would she find the resources to make a full human being out of her lab? Using a false account Nick and Coach used back in Meridian to create their new identities, the ex-reporter knew that Erin didn't have the technology to produce something like that out of thin air: one needed a mother and proper supply chains. _Come on, please tell me something good..._she prayed until she located a file on **Imports/Exports: City 2-CEDA**.

"Bingo," Ro smiled and clicked at it. Just as she suspected, Chicago was importing and exporting subjects to the government labs. It explained the ten Carriers the Horsemen killed that day; they were either volunteers or most likely taken from the city. But this wasn't what she was looking for; she was looking for any mention of this so-called Beast. What Rochelle couldn't give to hear Ronnie's last words, she was the first person shot and probably let the killer in as per her nature.

And then she found a news article, dated three months ago: "_CEDA management outsourced to Proserpine PharmaGroup_." "What the hell? When did THIS happen?"


	12. The Good Life

A/N: Various sides of the story are exposed, from a shell-shocked wife, an afflicted mother, a daughter lost, to a pair of ex-spouses whose meeting becomes the catalyst for a new twist to the mystery that surrounds the Horsemen. Yes, the c-word is used (and censored) but still! Thank you for all the reads and the reviews!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (C) VALVe, Samael (C) docmilbury/Vin

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Chapter 12: The Good Life**

Coach sat in his easy chair, staring at the Texas afternoon sky and raising a prayer to the heavens. Ever since he confessed his participation in the experiments, his wife Florence avoided contact with him and treated him like a total stranger. His guests? Not so much, as Keith, Francis, and Louis were so damn curious about it. Keith mostly asked the questions in regards to the future, questions that Coach didn't know the answers to. Knowing Flo's pain, Miss Cordy was there to comfort her, telling her, "My baby an' his man were taken by those bastards too, ma'am...it wasn't their choice. I know my child ain' nev'r do tha' by his own choosin'."

Florence would weep quietly, "Then why wouldn't [BEEP] tell me? Why wouldn't they just tell us?" "Because they didn't want to be rejected by people who didn't fucking understand," Zoey cut in roughly, tired of the same song and dance. "Now see here, li'l miss," Miss Cordy shot back, all 5'3" and 67 years of her in defense of her boys, "I don' care where y'all come from but yew don' talk t' yer elders like tha'!" "Like you know where I came from," the college student retorted. "Like _I said_, I don' care, now sit yer ass down an' shut up if yer not contributin' t' th' conversation!" the old woman snapped, making the whole first floor quiet. Stinging tears ran through Miss Cordy's face, her hands gripping where her womb would be. "Yer youn' enough, yew can still have a child...but Ellis an' Keith're all I got. Those c*nts made my baby int' a goddamn weapon!" That stunted any response from Zoey or anyone else for that matter; for a moment she had forgotten how protective parents became.

Zoey stepped out for a moment, trying to clear her thoughts and emotions. Miss Cordy and in a sense, Coach, reminded her too much of Bill. Both were survivors of the Infection and stubborn as hell. Overbeck had been the closest thing to a father-figure she had during her group's trip to Milhaven and later their escape. She only mourned three deaths in that period and he was one of them. There was that nagging and all-consuming desire to go back in time and let _her_ be the sacrifice not him... "At least I'd be with my parents." She spotted Louis going over with Keith, something about getting both Miss Cordy and Ma'am Florence some flowers while Francis resumed watching TV.

"Li'l miss, if you're askin' for death, it ain't the answer," the ex-football player remarked from behind. Zoey sighed out, "Sorry for causing that mess, I-" Coach waved his hand and dismissed her, "Thank you anyways but I've come to terms with my choices. I don't need excuses, just acceptance from the sole person I wanted it from." The young woman pushed her bangs aside before Coach asked, "Tell me about that old guy you three were protecting way back when." Keith caught that as he went out to apologize for his adoptive mother and leaned against the door frame. Like Ellis, the older hick was very perceptive and empathic to others' lives. "His name was Bill...and he was the greatest man I've ever met aside from my dad."

~0~

Just as requested, Nick was waiting for Selene in the North Tower at nine sharp, dragging a full puff of smoke into lungs that would just reconstruct themselves. _Maybe I'll just donate blood and cure cancer, _he mused until he heard the distinct sound of heels clicking up the stairs of the citadel. "No seriously, how did you survive the Infection? You'd rather let half your father's men die than let a single drop of blood fall on your designer shit," he inquired in a caustic tone to his voice. "Dad's dead, thanks for asking," Selene shot back, to none of Nick's surprise; karma tended to be fair to those who killed for amusement like "Ice-Man" Mercutio.

"So what did you want to talk about? And make it quick, I have a few errands to run before midnight," Nick cut right to the chase while walking on the bridge connecting each tower. "Can't we just talk like civil people?" "I think we're past that since you sent your two goons to beat me halfway to a coma last time I was here." Selene rolled her eyes and added, "That's how _we_ get rid of the deserters, Nick; deal with it." The derogatory name, used on the conman since he was a kid, lost all meaning after sharing his past with his lover. "This 'We' shit stops right now, 'Lena; I'm a happy bastard never having to remember what _you_ did to me."

That action in question slipped right off the mob princess' shoulders. "It's called survival of the fittest, Nick. Last I heard from you, you were in the casino boat business, dragging your feet in the mud with two more divorces and a stint in jail," Selene remarked, "Meanwhile, I was the reigning queen of Westside-" Nick put his hand up and stopped the line of thought, "You _were_ the reigning queen of what now is a quarantined zone."

To expose his point better, he looked down and spotted a few Infected trying to break the walls. "That little world you live in is pretty much dead. Get over yourself," he growled, glancing at his dog tags. Selene's eyes lit up with seething rage and confirmation of the chain. "Fuck you, Nicolas. You served me the divorce papers and expected to just go on like that? I invested ten years in you and what did you do? You fucking gambled with MY money and lived in MY house...I should've let you rot like the fucking mutt you are! Liam is a bigger man than you'll ever be, you'll always, _always_ be that slumdog living off the streets!"

Nick shot back with a sharp and harsh laugh, "Liam? Liam's a self-righteous prick and you know it." Then his eyes steeled up and something Selene could describe as old lined the green...that stare was always there since they met in that bar. _Just like that brat he was hanging out_, she noted. "Get out of this city. I came here to ask for help to Big Boss Giorgetti but I can't let you-" "_Now_ you care about me?" the princess spat back. "Liam will feed you to the Infected than let his father's hold on the city fall. I'm warning you...as a friend."

Selene sighed out and leaned onto the wired fence, nodding slightly at a passerby soldier. "I know, and that's why I'm here, Nicky..." Suddenly, Nick heard the shot from the distance and sidestepped the dart loaded with a sleeping agent. But before he knew it, a sharp pain slammed into the back of the neck, knocking him out instantly. "To ensure that doesn't happen." To the soldier, who turned to be a Giorgetti informant, she said, "Take him to the basement and reinforce his restraints."

~0~

For some reason, Ellis felt anxious as he waited at a sport bar for both his comrades. Keeping a low profile in hostile territory was something he did naturally after the escape from CEDA but the mechanic allowed his senses to cloud his mind. Sometimes, the best way to relax was to let his brain take in some of that environment and wait. It was also very interesting to observe that Chicago had more relaxed rules on carrying weapons than Austin; El counted four semi-automatic rifles, seven hand-guns, and of course his trusty sword along with Nick's.

The hick's own search into his lover's past prompted his own examination of his own life. El knew he had been blessed with his mother being there where his father hadn't. Little known fact was that he was a child out of wedlock but it never bothered him in the least. After all, what happened, happened. His stepfather, a James Faulkner, was his sole paternal figure until he died in a rig accident when the mechanic was five years old and Keith was seven. It was these two people that instilled that optimism that not even the Apocalypse or the surrender of his humanity could kill.

When the hick walked over to the plaza, he spotted Rochelle sitting down and reviewing her notes from both the public records and breaking into the main police station. "Where's Nick?" she had to ask when she noticed they were short one sarcastic Horseman. "He's clearing up som' business with his gang contacts. Som'thin' ain't righ', Ro..." Ellis remarked, that anxiety evident. "You're right on that regard, El," the reporter grimaced and led him into an empty lot she had been spying; lesson one of escaping authorities: never stay in one place too long and risk capture.

Rochelle's research was laid on the floor with red circles around certain articles, one around the picture the head of the Proserpine PharmaGroup: Leon Samael. "Tha' guy gives me th' creeps, baby girl," Ellis shuddered while committing everything else to memory. "He better, he's running CEDA _and_ the PNCA," War commented. "Busy man but weren't yew s'pposed t' be lookin' fer whatev'r made tha' killin' spree?" Conquest inquired, trying to make sense of the information. "That's the thing, El; he commissioned the Beast from CEDA...from McKinley herself."

That sent a shock to Ellis' brain but if Ro saw the reaction, she didn't say anything. "So it really was CEDA behind those murders...Lord, I ain't nev'r seen som'one so precise with a gun or so evil," he let out, glad now that he and Nick sent his mother and Keith to Coach's place. "What's more, some of the gangs here has been sending survivors from this city to CEDA in exchange for power."


	13. The Choices We Make

A/N: Some readers wanted some Nick-hurt...Look no further than Liam's reveal as a raging psychopath while he interrogates the conman. But not everyone is so eager to torture and the unlikely people are given the responsibilities of what to do next: carry on in an artificial world or make due in the grim reality. Thank your for the reads and reviews are most definitely welcome!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (C) VALVe, Samael (C) docmilbury/Vin

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Chapter 13: The Choices We Make**

[_The security cameras flip on and the restrained man in the center finally comes to. His suit is all crumpled by the chains and restraints imposed onto him as he lifts his head and groans alive. In front of his is a younger man if by some odd years, some foot soldiers, and a woman who seemed to relish it all. The whole room is bare and minimal light is used to intimidate those who came for the first time but not Nick._]

The chains are a bit much, don't you think?

[_On the right is the Giorgetti patriarch, a portly man with a receding hairline and bound to a wheelchair and oxygen tank_. _"The fuck is this, Liam?"_ _Big Boss, also known as Benedicto_,_ commanded his son, who was just as sharply dressed as the captive only he had shoulder length hair and amber eyes. "Don't worry, Dad; this bastard here's going to __**guarantee **__our family's power," Liam smirks and brings out the prisoner's combat knife. "Didn't know you were military nowadays, Nicky," he toys around, arousing a smirk from the target._]

Yeah I get around. Made my life worth something, unlike you assholes.

[_"So quick to sell out? See Dad? Fucking slumdog doesn't know where his loyalties lie," Liam conceded falsely, admiring the blade's caliber. Big Boss, as well as Selene and the other gang members apparently didn't take this 'offense' too lightly because the mobster quickly snapped with, "Then __**teach**__ the prick what happens when he's none too loyal to the famigilia." _

_The camera then zooms in when the spoiled prince slashes through Nick's face. A slight blood drip later and the lens catches something unnatural: the wound closing up in audience while the conman closes his eyes to deal with the pain. A collective gasp of surprise from everyone present makes Liam back off in terror. "What the fuck are you?" Nick looks up and, in the back, the sole woman flinches at such gesture._]

I don't know any more...you tell me.

[_Big Boss Giorgetti started mumbling a prayer while his son regained composure and circled the target. "Shit, you're a Horseman, aren't you?" Now the restraints made sense; they were in fact real and in fact, quite necessary. "Rich son of a bitch was right."_]

I didn't know I was that notorious. [_Nick looks at Liam and his boss_] Asking you people for help is out of the question, then. [_There's an edge to the conman now,_] Release me now, and we'll all pretend this never happened. If not, just remember this: there are two more where I came from.

[_Now it was Liam's turn to smirk before landing a solid right hook onto Nick's right cheek. "You kidding? This just made my fucking week! We're __**counting**__ on your hillbilly faggot and black slut to come and rescue you!" the psychopath remarked with an almost delighted smile while he grabbed a pair of brass knuckles. "In the meantime, let's see how high your pain tolerance is, shall we?" Nick snapped his eyesight back and spat on the wannabe gangster's face._]

Bring it on, cupcake.

[_The defiance irked the already coked Liam into a frenzy, launching punches all over the prisoner for a solid five minutes, to his father and comrades' entertainment. The female left the torture room in a huff without anyone else noticing._]

~0~

Selene had to get out of that room; she could barely breathe in there. She then noticed her hands were trembling uncontrollably and she knew why. Something she saw in her ex-husband's eyes shook her to the core...something divine and yet unholy. It was also something that resonated universally within her: _Release me._ _How did everyone else miss it? Why wasn't Liam affected by it?_ These were questions that raced in the mob princess's mind and distressed her to no end.

And then she remembered, "Shit! Liam must've called Samael to tell him where the Horsemen are," Selene hissed, trying to find a way to avert the quickly degrading situation. Like everyone else in that meeting with the politician and his scientist handler, all gangs got a glimpse into the small child killer that was Lilith. And ever the greedy monster, the only surviving Giorgetti son most probably had made the call himself to CEDA.

"_If you return our weapons, we'll ensure your position of power in this citadel," Leon tempted with his silver tongue._

The mob princess gave her next course of action considerable thought: she could either let the events take their course and hand over Nick back to CEDA or she could help him escape. To do the latter was to betray her family, her blood...to be no better than a slumdog. But Nick's words resonated with every blow Liam landed on his painfully regenerating body; Liam was only looking out for _his_ family or being honest, himself. Hell, he was the one who killed Selene's father during the first raid, even though he hadn't been infected. Selene had to choose... "Between my make-believe world or the real world," she whispered, frustrated.

~0~

Samael grinned at the photo confirmation sent over in a text message from his most "trusted" business associate in City 2; it did his twisted heart good to see one of McKinley's creatures be humbled by blood. In the corner of Samael's office was the Beast, playing with doll replicas of her siblings. In the last couple of days, the politician noted the child weapon's affinity to the toy stand-in for War. Holden, in a rare appearance from the lab, dismissed such behavior as that of a precocious animal looking for its mother.

"What a lovely specimen of God's ways," he murmured when his door was slammed open. Erin was pissed off and it showed in a rather slapdash attempt at making herself presentable for her boss. "This better be outstanding, I was in the middle of a sensitive experiment," she growled flatly, glaring down at Leon. She had been working on refining the Rhamnusia strain further since the Aurora, progenitor to Lilith, proved to be unstable in the long run. All she needed were Immune survivors like last time...

"Doctor! I may have good news for you! It seems our friends in Chicago have found Death and I'm sure Conquest and War will soon follow," Samael greeted with a hypocritical smile. "Save it. What do you want me to do about it? Won't you send your little monster to retrieve them?" McKinley was in no mood to deal with his fundamentalist bullshit. "My 'little monster' needs a chaperone and Cole is just about to finish up Camp Shelby," Leon stated calmly while drinking from his glass of brandy. The order made Erin almost grit her teeth, "Are you punishing me?" The head shake said "no" but the glint in his eyes said, "Hell yes."

"I promise, my dear doctor...by the time you come home, you will have your new test subjects. Your train awaits," Samael concluded and bid both his greatest creation and his most skeptical opponent off. _ Reclaim the Horsemen and bring them here for proper education; they must be made aware of their true roles._


	14. Inner Universe

A/N: A choice is made and the Survivors reunited as the grand puppeteer is revealed. Yes, I'll be putting this in the M-rated section now but thank you all for your reads! Reviews are most welcome!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (c) VALVe, Samael (c) docmilbury/Vin

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Chapter 14: Inner Universe**

After a half hour of what would be a lethal beating, Liam stopped to catch his breath and admire his work. To his eternal disdain, he saw each one of the bruises green up and the bones shift back in place. By then, Big Boss had to be wheeled out for a new tank, leaving his least deserving son with the Horseman. It was no secret that out of the three Giorgetti heirs, Liam would never amount to any real power, instigating an endless thirst for it in him. The Apocalypse didn't help him move the ranks, Liam would _always _be the runt.

"Tell me how you did it, [BEEP]," the wannabe prince asked while he yanked the conman's hair to force eye contact. Nick smirked, "I don't know what you're talking about." The mobster roared and wiped the sweat from his brow and grabbed a gun to fire five shots into his captive's abdomen. Of course it was fucking painful but, by the gambler's expressions and the quickly closing blood stains, he'd live again. "THAT! How the fuck did you become a fucking god?" Liam screamed exasperated at the sight, "You are a half-Indian mongrel, a low life prick who has no _right_ to even breath the same air as me!"

Never to back down from a fight, Nick growled back, "And yet here we are; it's not worth it." Liam was, right then, a mirror for the conman to see himself as he was five years ago. The 'Always look out for #1' attitude, that desire for the unattainable, it was a reflection that still had some relevance but it was all overshadowed by the sheer responsibility of being Legion. Nick grew up, Liam and Selene had not. "I want your power, slumdog...and when I'm done with you," the gangster murmured against the conman's healed cheek bone, "you _will _tell me how you did-"

"Sir, Samael wants to talk to you," a foot soldier announced, cutting the threat short. "Tell Selene to take the call; I'm busy," Liam shot back annoyed. "He wants _you_ sir," the man, barely thirty concluded then got shot in the forehead for his trouble. "Jesus Christ but what can you do?" the false prince shrugged while holstering his gun and putting on his suit jacket. He then signaled two bouncers to dragging the prisoner into a storage room, "I'll be back in an hour, Nicky; be smart for once and consider my offer," Liam bid him farewell then shut the door.

_God, what have I done?_ Nick thought over and over again as he realized his mistake. Instead of getting his comrades and their family protection, he practically gift-wrapped them for CEDA and whoever this Samael person was. _Back to the labs, to the torture...to being their fucking toys,_ he lamented quietly. And he knew, he just _knew_ they would locked up again and punished from their escapade. His mind brought up the vision that had caused him nightmares only defined to the point of realism,

_All four Horsemen were surrounded by the military and scientists, no escape...never again. Suddenly, both Coach and Rochelle were ripped from their flanks, drowning in needles and restraints. Nick turned around to try and grab Ellis while he could but he was yanked down by Infected scientists. "Nick, don' let go fer th' love of God!" That scream and those terrified blue eyes haunted Nick as he held on as hard as he could to that hand but for all his strength...Ellis still slipped away. "ELLIS!" he would call back as the Hordes swallowed him._

The grieving stopped the moment his ears heard the click of the door lock and he prepared for the worst. What he got was the biggest surprise of his life: although she was wearing a hood and gloves, Nick recognized Selene's Chanel perfume anywhere and even before he was experimented on. "Don't," she whispered while she unlocked the chains and undid the shackles. Nick knew better than to push his ex's generosity, especially when she tossed him a new black suit to replace the bloody one.

"The closest exit out of here is through the service halls, take a left and keep going until you hit Paddy's bar. Samael has already sent your escorts and should be here in a couple of hours. Get the hell out here and don't you ever fucking come back," Selene explained, using a hidden passage in the hotel the Giorgetti family was using as headquarters. _"Gladly,_" Nick shot back, checking the gun for ammo. Just as he was about to leave, the mob princess pulled the conman and locked lips with him for a moment, bidding him goodbye from her life. "Now you're that hick's problem."

~0~

Ellis was already looking for his lover, having had covered five blocks since sunrise. When Nick didn't show up at the agreed hour, he and Rochelle stopped their investigation and started searching. "Start with places marked with three crowns," the young man established as their parameters and, in the last two hours, no such luck in locating even a scent. Frustrated, El took his hat off and scratched his head, "Where are yew, Nika?" Would he have quit to save his own skin and returned to being a mobster? _Naw, tha's th' old Nick...he'd nev'r give up his freedom..._

The instance he put his hat back on, he heard, "OVERALLS!" in the distance. "Goddamn it, Nick, they were COVERALLS!" Ellis snapped back then realized, "Yer back!" The lovers reunited in a strangely deep embrace and kiss, no matter who watched. "Where were yew?" "Hell, babe. Now where's Rochelle? We have to get the fuck out of here," Nick answered tenderly. "Wha'? Wha' happened t' yer old fami-" Ellis tried to reason once the hug was broken and he handed the conman his sword. "They were in on it with CEDA; some douche named Samael already sent the Beast on our asses and we have to bail NOW."

Rochelle arrived just to heard that last part and her jaw dropped, "Did you just say Samael?" "Yeah why?" Nick tried to make sense while wrapping his katana and his gun away. "He's the president of the PNCA! He's has been pulling the strings in CEDA to make the Beast from McKinley's experiments! He's also the one who's been kidnapping survivors from cities to do the trials. Remember the ten Carriers Cole had us shoot?" Suddenly, all three Survivors realized it: everything since their escape from Meridian had been orchestrated to this point.

"Sonuvabitch's been leadin' us on t' try his new toy," Ellis concluded furiously, none of them really appreciated being used like this. They all shared that dark look in their eyes and unanimously agreed. "I think it's high fucking time we got some answers, right boys?" Rochelle growled, scheming grin on her plump lips.

~0~

"The _puto's_ in here," Liam led the scientist down the dank hotel walls, Lilith following close behind. Selene trailed them, bound by mafia law, but she'd rather avoid the little brat as long as she could. Lilith was in every sense a little doll, her dark hair bouncing along with every artificial step. McKinley just wanted to get out of Chicago and back to her laboratory; her research were proving very illuminating these days.. "Death is not in there," the Beast claimed before Liam could get the keys. "Look at that, kid think she's psychic," he spat and turned the door knob.

As much as Erin hated Lilith and her "father", she trusted her instincts more; Legion experiments were designed so they could recognize each other in a crowd by a mere scent or glance. So it didn't surprise her when the room and the chair were both empty. "WHAT THE FUCK?" Liam shouted irate, "who the fuck-" "Mr. Giorgetti, I'm sure Death and the other Horsemen are still around. The Beast can take it from here," McKinley halted whatever tirade was about to occur. "I don't fucking care! I'm going to find the prick who did this and fucking tear him apart!" the wannabe prince yelled and Selene followed orders, commanding a full lock-down of the hotel.

As the humans left the room, the Beast used her tiny hands to search around for her oldest surviving brother. Although she found his discarded clothes reeking of his blood, his trail had gone cold for a while, even for her Hunter sense of smell. That said, she found one long strand of dark brown hair.


	15. Aeon

A/N: A side-track into kidnapping and interrogation is due when McKinley finally reveals to the Survivors what they need to do to get rid of Lilith. Meanwhile, Miss Cordy and Keith explore Nick and El's apartment and find a certain camera. Thank you for all the reads and reviews and sorry for the delay!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (C) VALVe, Leon Samael (c) docmilbury

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Chapter 15: Aeon**

After staying awake for almost 15 hours, McKinley made her way to the nearest coffee shop and ordered the strongest drink they had. She knew for a certainty that the Aurora strain would never work out in any other application than with Lilith and even then, it was unstable. Leon may have stolen her research but he didn't know how to properly implement it for all the money and malice he had. When her coffee arrive via waitress, she didn't bother to look up or tip her before taking a good sip from it. She might have felt drowsy but she attributed it to her exhaustion...until she noticed who her waitress was.

When Erin did come to, she was handcuffed and blindfolded, further her distancing her from her captors. "Even if I do know who you are, I wouldn't be all that talkative," she remarked calmly, recognizing the fact that these were who she thought they were. "I wouldn't be so easy to dismiss your own work, doc," War's voice echoed in the room. The geneticist let a smile slip, unnerving the Survivors if for a moment; even as a hostage, the Ice Queen had almost all the control. "You three are the crowning achievement in what this virus can achieve..." she wistfully added to irk Conquest and his ingrained beliefs. And he was irked but Death stopped him short with, "Just us three? What about this so-called Beast? Bitch is pretty good at just cutting down every head in the room."

McKinley's face never faltered but the air around her got just a bit colder. "Your informations are all wrong; I didn't create that little monster...Samael did and put my name on the test tube," the scientist spat out with pride in her voice, "She's nothing but a doll." "A doll that's been killing innocent people to find us," War retorted angrily; how DARE this frigid woman besmirch her deceased friends! "Religious connotations aside, she's an abomination," Erin concluded simply, "She's just as defective as you were, if maybe worse."

Ellis smirked along with her compatriots: they found their bait. "Don't kid yourselves, I know why you captured me," the scientist shut whatever snippy comment Nick had about her intelligence, "I simply never considered you had the gall to actually do it." "Ah, difference here is that all your studies and numbers-crunching failed to consider the human factor of people getting desperate," Rochelle took to rub it in, "And if she's that big of a disaster then you of all people won't mind us eliminating her."

Erin thought about that proposition carefully and smirked oh so slightly; she was hoping on that. "The Beast is a greater disservice to the world than Samael's stupid little Bible club. I think I can spare a weakness or two if you three drop me off at the Amtrak as soon as you're done interrogating me." Nick and Ellis both looked at each other then their compatriot but Ro was too busy trying not to break the scientist's face. "An' yew tell CEDA t' lay off their chase on our asses," the mechanic added, causing McKinley to roll her eyes. "I can't do that, Conquest; you are United States-" "Fuck yew lady, I ain' no property o' no goddamn country, agency, an' 'specially not you," Ellis' voice growled and with that, he left the room to kill some random Infected. By the sound of the zombies' death nell, McKinley guesstimated she was in one of the few quarantine zones left in Chicago.

Nick shrugged and began with, "Okay, now that the _adults_ can talk...let's talk." "Shame Famine had to die; he'd agree with you. All you have to do is overpower and overstimulate Lilith," Erin concluded nonchalant. "I'm sorry, did I just walk into a bad Christian porno? What the fuck do you mean-" "_Overstimulating _her frontal lobe and hypothalamus. Repeated electric assaults to her head and neck induce a hormonal imbalance due to her Witch nature that fries her programming. She'll be left vulnerable while the brain synapses restore to default, unable to heal instantly or process commands. For 7 seconds, she'll just be a very resilient Infected," the geneticist added to her explanation, "Around 20 watts should do it."

It all seemed so damn simple and yet... "What's the catch?" Rochelle had to ask; no way that was as easy as it sounded. "No catch other than the startlingly obvious...Legion experiments are programmed not to kill each other. Preservation of the species," was the trite and vague answer that managed to still insult the Survivors' rapidly forgotten humanity. A pistol-whip later and there were no sounds left in the abandoned building. By the time Nick put McKinley in the back of the stolen car, El sat down on the gravel and watched the sun go down. It was a peaceful sight for him, even if he was surrounded by Infected bodies. The look the conman saw in the mechanic's eyes was that of resignation, compounded by the fact by what he said, "D'ya ev'r think tha' we'd ev'r be free? Like permanently?" "Nope," Nick answered truthfully, "but as long as I can, I won't go down while I'm protecting you, kid."

~0~

Miss Cordy knew she was torturing herself but, as she turned the spare key into her son's apartment, she needed some kind of contact with him while he was in Chicago. The small one-room home had been left in a state of chaos: Ellis left in a hurry to meet her and Keith. It showed with a work backpack mid-prep and a slightly moldy bread alongside a Bengali recipe she didn't quite understand. _Nikita must've been makin' 'im dinner_, she mused, forgiving the conman's gruffness for the moment.

Keith had been worried for his only family and followed her inside into his best friend's abode. There were a picture or two, from a park day a month after they had arrived. The scene captured had Ellis kneeling at his mother's side, all three of them smiling at the camera. The other one had been taken by Rochelle, catching her friends taking a nap and snuggled against each other under the big tree. The bond between the two was so strong that it spooked the Baptist. The fact that Ellis hid his secret for so long probably was for the best. When Keith entered the room with the older woman, he knew that he was in his best friend's inner sanctum. In Miss Cordy's trembling hands was a battered old security camera that still had a full charge. He managed to hold his composure long enough to flick the switch...

_My name's Ellis an' I'm a survivor…well, I used t' be._


	16. The Horseman of Death

A/N: A glimpse into the frightening true power the Rhamnusia strain has been imbued into the Survivors is revealed as one of them suffers a terrible loss. A side of mindscrew included. Thank you for all the reads!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (c) VALVe

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Chapter 16: The Horseman of Death**

Once the business of stowing Dr. McKinley in an Amtrak cabin, the Survivors all agreed on one thing: they had to face down the Beast in Chicago once and for all. The geneticist confirmed their worst fears: CEDA knew their aliases and their loved ones. At least in Ellis and Rochelle's case; Nick was in it to protect the mechanic and his newfound family. As clichéd as that may sound, the gambler had much more than just his own freedom on the line. The fact that at the end of it all, he was getting his own crew off their power trip was just peaches.

"To do what McKinley is recommending, we're going to either get REALLY close to Lilith or get her wet _then_ electrocute her," Ro thought out loud while Nick drove back to his old home; they needed to regroup and consider all possibilities. The fact that the Beast was made with the purest _Witch_ strains brought all of them chills; Lilith was indeed stronger than they were, if the normal ghouls were any example. "We're going to need stun guns and plenty of luck to land those hits."

"If she's as bad as y'all say she is, we're gonna need a _big _distraction t' lure her out," El reasoned, mind scrambling to make a plan, as did his comrades in this twisted game. "She's under Giorgetti supervision, ergo those fuckers know we're here and what we are...don't ask how," Nick warned, reloading all their guns and checking their blades that they were in wartime shape. "Yew forgot this..." As soon as Conquest handed the sword back into Death's hands, he smirked and nodded, "So it's safe to assume we'll be doing a side of cleaning, now are we?" _And get Selene out of there as safe as possible_ was unspoken; Ellis couldn't help the stinging surge of jealousy in his heart. He wasn't in Nick's thoughts now, she was. _Tha's how he must've felt when Zoey was on me...shit, this sucks. _What? Even super-powered human weapons got petty.

Suddenly, they all heard firetruck sirens heading back into the city...into Little Italy. "The hell?" Rochelle stuck her head out the window and spotted the smoke cloud bellowing from one of the buildings adjacent to the bakery her friends had lunch the other day. When Nick saw the fire, his face paled considerably...it couldn't be. "FUCK, SELENE!" he screamed as he jumped from the second floor, landing perfectly and smacking a motorcyclist off his ride. "What the fuck got into him?" War shouted while Ellis managed to hotwire the car they had been using to follow the conman. "His ex's in there, with th' Beast!"

It all made sense and the pettiness from before dropped like a rock: Nick had been trapped the night before and Selene had set him free. _He was just returnin' th' favor..._Ellis mentally berated himself, making a sharp right turn and ignoring everything else. The mechanic knew he had to find his lover before said Horseman did something incredibly stupid.

~0~

Nick didn't give a shit that everyone and their sister was watching but he had to get up into the old-time brick building. Burning as done by the Giorgetti family could be literal if they were disposing of a body or a dying target. Unable to assume anything but the worst, the transgenic gambler took out his handgun and shot each guard, pinpoint accuracy between their eyes to make his way inside. Hopping off the bike in the garage, he instantly unsheathed his blade and in a whirl of movement, five more heads rolled onto the quickly incinerating ground. No time to recover or flick the sword, Nick sprinted at full inhuman speed up the stairs. He was a man obsessed with finding his ex-wife, praying to anyone who listened that she'd be alive. When Nick couldn't hack through the guards, he gunned down, all the while calling her name on every floor. "Selene? Lena? ANSWER ME!"

At the fifth floor, the gambler could finally hear her soft labored breaths against the crackling hot wood. Stumbling along the walls and gripping her abdomen was his Italian goddess, reduced to a dying human. How she managed to walk to him was a miracle of a missing God but Selene was still trying to get out of the fire. "Who did this to you?" Nick asked desperately, catching his ex-wife in his arms. His white suit, replacing the one in Austin, was speckled with her blood.

"Don't you have something better to do?" she hissed halfheartedly; she shared in his refusal to demonstrate weakness. "I won't leave you here...I'll get help," the conman tried to bargain, his attempts at bandaging her swatted away. "I thought you hated me, you fucking slumdog," Selene shot back with a smile. "I never did, you idiot," Death comforted her, while an almost innate sense told him her time was coming.

With no other choice, Nick picked Selene up and carried her up the master bedroom, even through the inferno around them. "What are you doing...?" the mob princess had to ask as her ex-husband set her down in the fine silk and cotton sheets. "Remember on our wedding night, when I promised you that you'd lay in a bed worthy of a queen?" Nick said in a broken voice while red tears slipped from his face. Selene's heart softened along with her pulse; she did. "Sleep, Cleopatra." Nick stayed there, sitting besides his dying ex-wife until her last breath said, "Feels good..Grazie." Those grey eyes closed, and the gambler finally took notice of the fire surrounding them. As the foot soldiers stomped up to the stairs, something inside Nick's mind snapped and gave in: he was going to protect Selene's corpse at _all cost_, to give her some measure of peace. He placed one last peck on her forehead, his eyes cried blood but became completely red for a moment to watch as the remaining Giorgetti foot soldiers surrounded him..._how DARE these shitbags kill her..._

As Nick slipped further in his rage, he instantly pounced back on his feet and searched around his holster for his gun. When he didn't find any weapon on his person, he roared a Hunter's unearthly call, sending chills all over the Giorgetti men. It was also a sound Ellis and Rochelle recognized instantly and they raced up the building's floors to make time. "What the fuck was THAT?" Ro yelled until she saw a man flung into the walls with a horrid snap sound. The voice in the conman's head, the Pale Horseman in the form of his mother, told him "_Mujhē apanē saṭīka badalā, pyārē baccē kī anumati dēṁ"..."Allow me to exact your revenge, dear child."_

What they saw in the burning bedroom was not a man, not a beast...but Death incarnate. Nick's eyes were completely bloodshot almost glowing like a Witch. His hands and face covered in the mobsters' blood, locks of black hair swayed without resistance; he had lost control. All around him were the corpses of the henchmen, torn apart by the seams and broken beyond repair. The only body that wasn't decimated was the one laying on the bed, with her mortal wound and peaceful expression untarnished.

It didn't take Ellis that much to understand and, against Rochelle's insistence, he ventured closer to the raving creature. "Nick, she's gone," he whispered through the fire and the unhinged conman's growling, "She's gone, baby." The mechanic extended his hand, noting that whatever entity was possessing his lover had recognized him and eased up.

Once the two made contact, the red glow in Nick's eyes subsided, leaving behind his usual crystal clear green eyes when he managed to ask, "Ellis?" Suddenly, the conman's body was tense and racked with seizures. "Shit! The fumes got to him!" the ex-reporter hissed just as her comrade fell to the ground, convulsing painfully. "Wha' th' fuck? Nick, I-" "Don't touch him or you'll hurt him!" If basic first-aid had any use, it was now. "Put his head somewhere soft!" Ellis instantly sacrificed his hat and a rolled up sheets and slipped them under Nick's head, each seizure inflicting horrible psychological pain in him. _Don't do this, don't go...please. _A few seconds later and finally he was stable and breathing normally. "Nick, are ya al'righ'?" the hick inquired as soon as his lover returned to normal, hands threading in the bloody locks of hair. "Yeah...let's get out of here." While the three left, Nick asked, "When did Selene die?"


	17. All Roads to Hell

A/N: This was delayed for the simple reason that I couldn't pick a proper final battle for the Survivors versus Lilith. After much deliberation, this is the best combo I could come up with and I'm very satisfied with it. I've held off putting the M-rating on this story long enough; this chapter is reason alone for it. The final showdown between the Four Horsemen and the Beast takes place in hallowed grounds but the victory is Pyrrhic once the dust settles. Reviews are welcome!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (C) VALVe, Samael (C) docmilbury

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**Chapter 17: All Roads to Hell...**

That question stopped Ellis and Rochelle in their tracks: the fact that Nick didn't know how Selene died after that display was disturbing in of itself. "Yew mean yew don't remember wha' happened?" El had to ask, caressing his angel of death, to which he got a blank shake of the head. "All I remember is...talking to you guys about Lilith then-" Amrita's voice whispered silently, quelling the horrible memories of loss, "I'm here." It honestly felt like a distant dream, as if he had no real connection to the burning structure. It didn't stop the heavy sense of grief when Nick looked back at the inferno; Selene was dead, along with the last vestiges of his former life.

Before they could even recoup, a loud crackling sound came up from the second floor and crashed onto the Survivor's car. "What was-" The caved-in hood shifted and out came a little girl in a perfectly formal black-white dress. The creature locked sights on her targets, eternally stuck in the uncanny valley, and drew a .50 Magnum, custom made for her tiny hands. But the moment Rochelle laid eyes on her, her whole body froze. Something was physically preventing her from taking an offensive stance against to the child. The resemblance wasn't lost on either El or Nick and, even with everything that's happened, remembered what McKinley had told them..._Preservation of the species._ "Wow, God definitely didn't make you," the gambler spat before he got a new hole in the head. "Shit!"

"You are to come with me to Camp Shelby. There you will be reinstated into the Legion program," Lilith commanded, never wavering. "Fuck off, kid; we're goin' home," Ellis hissed, shielding his lover and best friend with his sword and shotgun. "I can't let that happen," the unrelenting monster stared down at her experimental brother, "we are United States Army property; we are to return...at _any_ cost." There was no negotiation with her: they either came with her alive or in body bags. Without much ado, the Survivors took off in different directions, mingling into the crowds and buildings. With her targets locked in, Lilith followed them and began shooting down everything in her path, including passerby civilians.

"Shit! We're causing more damage than CEDA!" Rochelle shouted, narrowly evading a bullet to the kneecaps. "We gotta find a place t' get her away from people!" Ellis added while he hopped off one building and up another. Nick searched his memories for anywhere he could lead them that could aid them. Then it dawned on him. "Follow me and make sure she's there!" It took Ellis a valuable second as to figure out where Nick was taking them but when it clicked, it made sense. As they barged their way into the musty old church, they could faintly make out the Quarantine posters. The structure had seen better days, with intermittent flashes of light assuring the group they'd have the proper equipment.

As soon as they regrouped inside the echoing structure, all three could hear the faint patter of small feet heading their way. Or maybe they were just hearing things. "Quick, reload while we still can; there are weapons on the table," Nick instructed, grabbing a sub-machine gun and slammed in a new cartridge to each one. For now, close combat had to be abandoned to get as much long-range damage, so the three transgenic survivors sheathed their swords and steadied down. It was all or nothing at this point. Following an unspoken rule, they all bunkered down in different vantage points of the church. If they were going to make it out alive, an ambush was their best option. The door creaked open, the moon shadow of a demon peering inside...

~0~

After a half-hour, the Beast had finally cornered her mother and her brothers, their wounds too serious to continue the fight without stopping. All three were bleeding from almost every hole in their bodies, structural bones racing to heal before they were pounded again. "Stop, please," Rochelle pleaded to Lilith, trying to appeal to their maternal bond. "Please let us go. We just want to live a normal life..." "You are not normal, you never were," the Beast stated, flicking her mother's machete clean of the Survivors' blood and tissue. The moment the little girl smiled at their pain, Ellis saw no redemption in her and used his shotgun to blast her away. "Burn in hell then," the mechanic covered and recoiled for the inevitable-

Any comeback Lilith had was struck down by a bat to the face. Her disorientation gave way to impersonal rage and confusion; standing over was Famine himself, declared dead three months ago. "Boys an' girls, we've got ourselves a hell cat," Coach remarked as he helped Rochelle and Nick up on their feet. "How did you-?" "A real coach don't leave his team behind," the oldest survivor stated and grabbed the machine gun Ellis tossed.

All four horsemen reunited boosted morale immediately as they surrounded the Beast. "This doesn't feel right..." Ellis tried to block out the fact that, although created, Lilith was still a child. "Little late for that, don't you think, El?" Nick reasoned just moments before said creation almost snapped his mechanic's neck. He immediately grabbed the Beast's leg and slammed her against the sturdy brick walls, making her scream "MAMA!" It was deliberate, using the same bond Rochelle attempted to use back down against her. The reporter bit down her biological drive as she pointed her sniper rifle, "I'm not your mother, you bitch."

Out of options but her survival instincts never overruling her father's commands, Lilith composed herself to state, "So be it." In her programmed mind, the order of Exorcism took over; it was Samael's final task should any experiment go array. _Exorcise the souls within and bring me their bodies,_ his velvet voice lulled the Beast into calm, ripping a pew off the ground and batting all four survivors aside. "Fuck!" Nick coughed up blood, groaning in pain. "After this, I'm going to fucking Vegas." "I'll come with. Jesus Christ, can't this bitch quit?" Ellis responded, picking a 3-inch splinter from his face. "There's gotta be some weak point," Coach reasoned as the little monster began walking her way to them, Magnum reloaded. "Yeah there is...but it's bad: making her into a baby Witch," Rochelle sat up for a moment, remembering what McKinley told them. Their bodies were on overdrive after so much abuse and they were starting to falter; they felt closer to human than ever before. "How the fuck are we supposed to do that?"

Ellis noticed the blinking lights from above and had an idea. Nick caught it and quietly nodded. "Cover us," Death whispered to Famine and War before running parallel to Conquest. This fight wasn't over just yet. Sprinting past the abomination, Lilith became distracted by two large-caliber sniper rounds to her body along with plenty of buckshot to her small frame. "I will enjoy this," she hissed as she threw a shard of glass, precision-strike into Coach's stomach. The psychopath neglected to hear her siblings cut down the light-bulbs and tear the cables towards themselves; she was just too busy breaking Rochelle's arm in four places. "Now!"

Immediately, the Beast screamed in pain as 240 volts of pure electricity coursed through her frame, starting from the nape of her neck. Both Death and Conquest embedded the wires into her skin with sheer force, hoping that McKinley's advice worked. Squirming and experiencing wrecking spasms, Lilith was beginning to fail, eyes turning red as Nick's back in the fire. Claws erupted from her tiny hands, the telltale symptoms of the Witch strain from where the Aurora was based upon. It also meant that for a few precious seconds, Lilith lost her healing factor and became a normal Special Infected.

"Give it all you've got; this thing's going down NOW," Rochelle commanded, reloading all her firepower. All four survivors unloaded their cartridges into the Beast, silencing her cries for her father-figure, the only person who gave her attention unconditionally. The last blow had to be lethal: sever the brain stem from the body. Ro couldn't do it but with two blade swings, the Beast fell in half. Ellis and Nick breathed hard, their swords covered in Lilith's flesh and blood.

As soon as the Survivors caught their breath, Coach placed the last bullet in between the monster's eyes, effectively killing her. "It's over," the reporter declared with a shaky voice. They had beaten Samael's main weapon...but their victory was soiled by the fact that they had just murdered the youngest Witch to date.


	18. Are Paved with Good Intentions

A/N: The last chapter of _Brave New World_ and it's a bitterweet conclusion to the second part of the trilogy...Like the first one, the Epilogue is coming up! Thank you for all the reads and being so patient! As one Legion experiment falls, the Survivors venture to hope their troubles are over, only to be caught off-guard by the loss of a certain semi-invincible Savannah native and Pennsylvania Survivor. A blood secret is revealed and a pact is made...

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (C) VALVe, Samael (C) docmilbury

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**Chapter 18: ...Are Paved with Good Intentions**

As the pyre lit up the dusk sky, all four Horsemen stared into the burning body inside. Like Selene, Lilith was sacrificed to the flames, her tiny frame disappearing into ashes. Rochelle sighed and wiped the involuntary flow of tears; laboratory-made or not, the Beast was still her biological child and her body mourned her. It was as if War herself wept for her baby. "You okay, Ro?" Coach tried to comfort her, getting a trite nod as a response. "I'll be fine; I'm just glad Ronnie and my friends are at peace now," she answered, leaning against her father-figure. The emotional toll had finally caught up with the body count, in two states and across ranks.

In a complete reversal of roles, it was Nick who wandered into Ellis' hotel room while they waited things to cool down with the train stations. After the wanton destruction Lilith caused in Chicago made in the chase, there was a backlog in departures as people evacuated. His steps were heavy, no attempts at hiding his presence were made so El took out his handgun and pointed it ahead. "It's me, sport," Nick clarified rather morose, for a moment standing in the line of fire. The mechanic was still reeling from seeing Death in the eye (both figurately and literally) so he took a while in putting the weapon down. "Wha's wrong, baby? Yer still gettin' headaches?"

"Ellis, I lost my ex-wife today. I had to kill a little girl...I need you," Nick confessed, trying so hard to hide the weakness he felt. Ellis sighed out and scooted over to give his lover the warmth. He knew that the conman loved his Italian goddess once, grief evidence of the fact. Once the older man fell onto the mattress, his arm wrapped around the hick's waist and pulled him back. "I'm so sorry for yer loss, Nick," El whispered into the gambler's ear as he placed him on his lap and hovered his fingertips over the head of hair. "What did you slip into Ro's drink to make her sleep so hard? I want some." "Tha's for me an' Coach t' know an' yew two t' nev'r find out," the youngest Survivor retorted then kissed Nick's forehead.

The conman took advantage of the kindness and locked lips with his lover. He tried to push down and have his way but Ellis recouped and shook his head slowly. "Yew don't want this, Nick; not like this," he warned, finally seeing the blood silently pour from green eyes. "Never hurts to try," Nick quipped, drops landing on El's chest before he wiped them off to lay down. It was a troubled sleep, not aided in the least by the sounds of the Infected contaminating their dreams.

The train ride back to Austin was a dour one, no one wanted to talk about it. It was just too much for them to think about. The only welcoming thought was that there would be people waiting for them on the other side of the tracks. When Coach was asked about his arrival, he sighed out, "We got into this mess together, I ain't about to get out alone." He had to explain everything to Miss Florence and told her all the things he'd done as Famine. In the end, Ma'am Flo just embraced her husband, forgiving him and telling him, "Go to Chicago, babe; your wards need you now." Ellis grinned wearily, leaning against Nick as he said, "Well, at least we're goin' home."

_If this is the ending you wish to read, then stop now. It won't be true but it'll be the illusion of the Survivors want to believe. But the reality is that, in this Brave New World, there are no real happy endings._

The truth was that Coach's and Miss Cordy's homes had just been ransacked when they arrived. "Mama!" Ellis broke down the oak door and found his mother lying on a small pool of blood. "MAMA! STAY WITH ME!" El pleaded, lifting his mother's head slightly, a small gash on her forehead scaring him to pieces. Nick instantly searched for Keith in the building while calling an ambulance. "This is Nathan Liberatore, I'm at one Cordelia Finn's home at-Keith where the fuck are you?" The same situation was mirrored in Louis' apartment, where he and his fellow survivors stayed for the last months.

When Miss Cordy finally came to, she found herself watched over by her son and his lover, keeping watch over the situation as best as they could. "Yer allrigh' mama," Ellis whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead, "th' doctors tol' us yew had a concussion an' a bruised arm but yer gonna be fine." Suddenly the woman broke down in tears, "No baby, I ain't never gonna be all right...I let 'em take Keith." "Who took Keith, Cordelia?" Nick instantly reacted, hoping that it wasn't who he and Ellis feared. "CEDA only they weren't CEDA...El, there's som'thin' yew gotta know 'bout yew an' Keith," Miss Cordy pleaded, tears falling.

"Why woul' CEDA want with Keith? I thought he was immune like us," the mechanic tried to make sense of the kidnapping. "Tha's because you an' him share a maternal line, El," Miss Cordy said it and it made both Horsemen's blood run cold. "What did you say?" the conman asked, staring at his partner for any similarities between him and his best friend. "Momma, what're ya tryin' t' tell me?" "Yew an' Keith are blood relatives, El; his momma was my sister. One doesn't fuck 'nother woman's husband and gets away scot-free." Suddenly, Ellis felt his knees weaken and the breath leave his lungs. By divine or unholy providence...his best friend, the man who was his brother was actually...

"Oh God, they took 'im t' run th' experiments all over again!" the realization came out in a horrified exclamation and Ellis took off, to the train stations in his truck, the one he and Keith had worked. He sped through City 2's streets, in a vain attempt at catching the CEDA cabin. "No no no, fuck no," he uttered under his breath as he dumped the vehicle and ran at his top speed. To his great misfortune, he caught a glimpse of a barely conscious Keith being shuffled into the private cabs. "KEITH!" The older hick heard his name and turned around to try and locate the sound. "El?" The politician at his side ordered the Lincoln man inside as Ellis ran up to closing doors.

"Keith! Lemme in, y'all can't take 'im!" the youngest Horseman yelled, slamming his fist into the steel doors and denting them. "Conductor, it's time to go," Ellis heard Leon Samael order before they locked eyes. Steely gray met vengeful blues as the Devil smiled venomously for a moment before the train disappeared into the horizon. Still stunned at the whole ordeal, Ellis screamed, "Don't worry Keith! We'll find ya! I swear t' God I will!" Nick found his lover on his knees, dead inside if for a second, "They took Keith, Nick," he whispered, unable to cry or react. Knowing loss intimately, the conman helped Ellis stand up, dog tags glimmering for a moment. "And we'll just take him back, Ellis. No matter what it takes."

Looking at the rising sun, Nick and Ellis made a pact to find their missing, even if it took them to the end of the Earth. They had 25 cities to look for Keith and later in the day, Zoey, as Rochelle and Coach's assessment realized. The Four Horsemen had survived hell, and managed to made a family... like hell Samael, CEDA, or anyone else was going to stand in their way.

**End of Brave New World.**


	19. Epilogue: The Birth of Archangels

A/N: The Epilogue to Brave New World introduces us to what a destroyed human is willing to do to forget...and the fate of a Survivor is revealed. Once more, thank you for all the reads! The last part, _The Archangels of Revelations _will be up soon enough but I hope you enjoy the preview of mindscrews to come! Reviews are welcome!

DISCLAIMER: Recognize it? (C) VALVe, Samael (C) docmilbury

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**Epilogue: The Birth of the Archangels**

Zoey was nervous while she sat in the vast lobby. She knew that she was making a mistake but the nightmares of watching Bill die in Milhaven were becoming too much. Her mind was starting to buckle down with the strain of maintaining appearances of being a survivor. She wasn't like Louis or Ellis, she'd grown out her optimism. The dread of having another outbreak loomed over her head and she saw the Infected everywhere to the point of delusional paranoia. She tried taking sleeping pills but they only aggravated the problems. Seeing the Savannah Survivors display their powers and defeat those soldiers back in that restaurant, it inspired her. It was a different inspiration than the arrogant man besides her; she wanted to do this to protect her loved ones.

The secretary, a perfect 1960's example, cued her in with a chirp-like "Zoey Pullman, Mr. Samael would like to see you now." The college student walked into the echoing halls, wondering how they stayed so clean after the Zombie Apocalypse. She didn't know that for this to happen, many were sacrificed to the Horde. She could almost swear she saw the other guest sneer, prompting her to think, "What crawled up his ass and died?"

The nurses were very kind and the relaxing music was kind of nice but as they prepared the IV and the proper bed, the college student tried to make sense of the noises she heard from upstairs. "Is someone in pain?" she asked, instantly suspicious and backtracking her choice. "Well, this process is not without some initial discomfort. It'll pass," Nurse Nina, her assigned handler, assured her as she switched the saline for a blue compound. No one was allowed in the Attic, not even the nursing staff. "This part of the process will require you to sleep so count backwards from 100 and you'll be out like a light." By the time the starter burning sensation was gone, Zoey didn't get past 89 before she dozed off.

~0~

Meanwhile, Erin McKinley went about her morning routine: grab a cup of coffee, black for better caffeine absorption, kiss Jessica awake, and both scientists head on over to their shared lab. If anything was a saving grace from working under Samael's shadow was the obscene amount of resources he had. Under Cole's comparatively dingy labs, she managed the flawed Horsemen though the confirmation of Lilith's death brought a smirk to her face.

Her subjects had indeed proven superior but she had yet to reveal her treason; she trusted the Survivors to keep their mouths shut. Unlike Samael, she knew that Nathan Cole was slowly but surely gaining traction in opposing the prick. Lilith's destructive sprees had caused a burden onto both CEDA and the Proserpine Group. In fact, she secretly relished the pain of seeing Leon acknowledge his failure. That is, until she saw him put away the Beast's toys, then she saw actual weakness in her boss. For a second, Samael seemed lost...

"Miss Pullman and Mr. Giorgetti are here for the initial dosage," Erin announced and let herself in. "Perfect, we can't keep them waiting," Samael responded, politician mask put on again. The two bitter enemies then made their way to the basement level, where the Rhamnusia strain had been produced. "How's the Original Source coming along?" McKinley inquired, looking over the stats. "Brain-dead but that's how we left him," Holden answered, handing the scientist and the politician a report. "And the Archangel Project?" Samael interrupted. "Three out of Four have been dosed: codename St. Gabriel is in the Attic, St. Uriel and Raphael are getting installed. All three have been dosed with the refined Rhamnusia strain, now Dysnomia." Staring back at them, in a tube just as the Horsemen had been stored for brief moments at a time was one William "Bill" Overbeck.


End file.
